


The Harder They Fall

by PanicFOB



Series: The Harder They Fall [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Language, POV Alternating, POV Second Person, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, but Steve doesn't stay withe Peggy, mostly endgame compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-09-16
Packaged: 2020-09-30 16:50:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 23,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20450396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PanicFOB/pseuds/PanicFOB
Summary: Steve remains in the present after returning all the stones, but he no longer wants to be Captain America. He makes a huge change in his lifestyle, and then he meets you who makes him doubt his decision of an early retirement.This story is mostly Endgame compliant, but Steve does not stay in the past with Peggy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I know fics with Steve reversing the serum have been done many times, but I’m trying to bring a unique take to this trope, and I haven’t personally read any fics that are anywhere similar to this one. These first chapters start out a little angsty because we pick up at the end of EG, but I’m a sucker for fluff so there will absolutely be plenty of that throughout the story. There will be twenty chapters, and the POV will alternate every two chapters. 3 & 4 will be second person POV and will be going up tomorrow. Please give this a shot even if you don’t typically read stories with small!Steve.

After Tony’s funeral, Steve had felt a deep-seated change in himself.

The man, despite their many differences, had been a very good friend to Steve. Tony had been an inspiration, a sounding board, a mentor at times. He had changed from a carefree bachelor to a caring family man. He had become the ultimate hero. Sure, Captain America had a century-old legacy, but Iron Man was the real legend. Steve, along with all their friends, knew that to have lived in the presence of Tony Stark had been a true gift, and that gift had ended now.

Then there was Nat, Steve’s closest friend over the past five years when he had lost both Sam and Bucky and she had been abandoned by Clint. The woman who had introduced him in many ways to the 21st century, who had only ever wanted Steve to find a woman and be happy. She had been a fierce fighter and an even fiercer friend. She had said, “See you in a minute,” and he had never considered that her words could be untrue. He might be lost without her.

That day, looking out over the lake by Tony and Pepper’s cabin, Steve resigned himself to an ending of a stage. He wasn’t sure about a new beginning just yet, but he knew that the idea of Steve Rogers as Captain America had ended. For all the time on the run with Sam and Bucky and Nat, he had always still felt the call of America’s hero inside of him. For those five years, the blip they called it, he still held on to that feeling. But now that Thanos had been turned to dust, and the Avengers had still lost so much in the battle, Steve could not grasp that unyielding sense of duty any longer.

At first, when he had thought about a new beginning, his mind went to Peggy, but that didn’t feel like the future anymore. Peggy Carter felt very much like his past. And he had built a life in this time. Despite two of his very close friends being gone, he still had many people here that he cared about very much. Sam and Bucky had finally been snapped back into existence, and he had tons of catching up to do with those two. He was sure Thor would still come around Earth every now and then, even though he handed over the ruling of New Asgard to Valkyrie. Bruce and Clint were both devastated about the loss of Nat, and Steve knew he needed to be here to support his friends in their mutual grief.

And he wanted to see Morgan grow up. Steve hoped she’d be just like her father: stubborn and the smartest person Steve had ever met. Steve knew that brave little girl would be just as much the hero that her father was, and he had to be present in this century to see the day that she would take on that mantle.

So, when Bruce said, “We’ll meet you back here, okay?” Steve only felt the familiar pull of a 1940s life with Peggy for a moment before he gathered his determination to return the stones, make one small pit stop, and come back five seconds later to the family he had built in the modern century.

When he reappeared, the stones and Mjolnir were gone, but Steve held an unbroken Captain America shield.

“Hey, you got a new shield. Nice, man!” Sam was wearing the same smile he’d had when Steve left.

“Not for me.”

“Did you return them all to the proper place?” Bruce was mostly concerned about the stones, not paying any attention to what Steve had brought back with him.

“Yeah, at the exact moments. No worries, Bruce.” He walked toward Sam, holding the shield out to him. “Try it on.”

“What?” The man looked at Bucky for some sort of explanation, but Bucky only shrugged, just as confused about where Steve was going with this.

“I’m passing the torch, Sam. My time as Captain America is over.”

Sam’s brows were furrowed in both concern and shock, but he finally took the shield from Steve, holding it awkwardly on his arm.

“How’s it feel?”

“Like it’s someone else’s.”

“It isn’t. Not anymore, Sam.”

“But Steve, Captain America has been your life for eighty years now, are you sure you can just give that up?”

“I think it’s time that Steve Rogers finally stepped out from under the shadow of the Captain and had a chance to live his life now, the kind of life he’s always wanted but never thought he could have.”

“Oh yeah? And what kind of life is that?”

“I’m not quite sure yet, but I’ll figure it out. Meanwhile, I’ll sit on the sidelines and watch my two best friends continue to kick ass.”

Bucky was grinning at him now. “Typical Steve, leaving us to do all the dirty work.”

Steve clapped his oldest friend on the shoulder. “Just like old times, huh Buck? You coming in and winning all my battles for me once I’d been beaten to a pulp and had all the fight knocked out of me?”

“Just like old times. Although I remember you being a lot scrawnier then. How are you gonna distance yourself from the Captain America title when you still look like the nation’s hero?”

Steve thought for a moment, coming up completely blank. “I’m not sure. I’ll lay low for a while… figure something out.”

“Guys,” Bruce interrupted them, “I hate to interrupt this love fest with depressing stuff, but Clint just texted. He said they’re having a memorial service for Natasha out at his and Laura’s farm later this week.”

The joy Steve had felt at seeing Sam with the shield instantly diminished. Saying goodbye to Tony had been hard enough, but he wasn’t sure he could do the same for Nat just yet. He saw similar looks of anguish cross Bucky, Sam, and Bruce’s faces.

There was one very important thing he had learned from Tony: when Steve made a vow to stick by his team in something, it was imperative to keep that vow. Although the dynamic would be different with him no longer being the leader and part of the fight, Steve would remain at his friends’ sides for as long as they needed him. They would face the pain together.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy!

They were moving back to the tower. The compound wasn’t really in working order anymore since it had been blown up by Thanos’ ship. Steve was okay with it. The compound held too many memories of late nights with Nat, trying to wrack their brains for some way to bring back half the planet. That place had been Nat’s home more than anyone else’s in the last five years, and he didn’t think he would have been able to live there without remembering her dancing or boxing in the gym, without remembering her crying over peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

Clint was officially retired. He had tried to live the family life a thousand times before, but typically came back after a few weeks. Now that he had been separated from his loved ones for five years, Steve was sure retirement would suit the man well this time.

Wanda was still a part of the team, but there was a misery in her eyes that Steve hadn’t noticed since she lost her brother. He suspected it would be a long time before she could feel okay again. He knew how close she and Vision had become.

Bruce was more into the Avenger gig than he’d ever been before. Now that he had combined Hulk’s body with his mind, he had a newfound confidence, and despite his grief over Nat and his injured arm, his positive energy would be great for the team.

Steve hadn’t heard from Thor since he disappeared with the Guardians.

Rhodey was quick to jump in and take point on the new Avengers team. Steve thought the man would do an excellent job of honoring his best friend while taking on the struggles that Tony had always handled so gracefully.

Sam and Bucky officially moved into the tower as well. The tensions from the Accords had been long forgotten by now. Sam would take lead of the team alongside Rhodey, and the Avengers would be just as unstoppable as ever.

Peter Parker was set to officially join the team once he graduated high school. Steve knew that Tony wouldn’t have let the kid go without finishing school. He would also be required to still take college classes online, even after he moved into the tower and began fighting evil full-time. Peter had agreed to these terms unfazed, knowing just as well what his mentor would have wanted.

Scott Lang was on call to help whenever the team needed him and Hope, but they chose to live at home in order to see Cassie as much as possible.

Steve was at a loss of what to do with his newly retired self for quite some time. He took point in the relocation back to the tower, making himself as useful as possible. He helped Sam organize grief counseling for the team. He spent a lot of time in the gym, but it didn’t feel the same as before. He had no purpose for keeping his body in prime condition; he was a fighter no more. He tried to go out around the city a few times, places like central park, museums, and Coney Island, but people always recognized him and he ended up signing a thousand autographs before slipping away and heading home.

One day, Steve wandered down to Bruce’s lab, and he found it interesting to watch the man work. Steve had never known much about science and mathematics, but he began to ask Bruce questions as he went along, and the Hulk was much more inclined to answer Steve’s trivial questions than Tony had ever been. He found himself returning to the lab almost every day.

“I still can’t believe you figured out how to keep your brain in the Hulk’s body,” Steve said to the man on a late evening in his lab.

“I know. It’s something I never would have thought possible ten years ago.”

“How’d you do it?”

Bruce gave a long-winded explanation that contained many words Steve did not know. He tried his best to follow along, but the only thing he could really make sense of was Gamma Rays. His mind kept flashing back to his own transformation in Erskine’s lab. He suddenly remembered that the reason Bruce had become the Hulk in the first place was in an effort to recreate the Captain America super-soldier.

“You know, Bruce, I bet if you were smart enough to figure that out, you could probably recreate Erskine’s serum properly.”

Bruce’s eyebrows were raised to his hairline at Steve’s suggestion. “I guess I hadn’t really tried to do that again. It would be quite irresponsible, wouldn’t it?”

Steve thought for a moment, and a desire that he had felt for some time but hadn’t been able to put words to suddenly came to fruition. “Not if you also created a way to easily reverse the serum. That way if it got in the wrong hands, it could be undone with little problems.”

Bruce was looking at him now in a way that told Steve he could see right through him. “You don’t want to be a super-soldier anymore, Steve?”

Steve squared his jaw, absolutely sure of his answer now. “No, I don’t think I do.”

And so this mad wish turned into a mad plan which turned into a mad reality.

Bruce engineered the serum in record time, Steve there watching him every step of the way. Then, he reverse-engineered an antidote to the serum. Both products were much easier to apply, the subject not having to be locked in the torturous capsule they had put Steve inside of back in the 40s. It could be administered with one simple shot, and the effects would happen within five minutes.

Steve’s only hesitation had been about his health. He wouldn’t mind being small again, but he didn’t want to be on the verge of death. He wanted to live a normal life, not a miserable one. Bruce assured him, though, that advanced medicine could clear up any of the maladies he had dealt with in the past, and as long as he maintained a healthy diet and exercise Steve would be as normal as they come. However, Bruce did make Steve promise to remain living in the Tower in order to monitor his wellbeing in case something went wrong.

The day before they had planned to administer the shot, Steve and Bruce called a meeting with their friends. Steve had wanted to tell Bucky and Sam of his plans sooner, but every time he tried, he simply could not form the words. Now, he was standing before a conference table with a cluster of confused looking faces directed his way as he told them that he would be receiving a reverse serum.

The team was rightfully concerned, but since Steve had already retired from fighting, they couldn’t object much if he wanted to do this in order to live a normal life.

“Steve, are you sure about this? I remember how much you hated yourself before the war,” Bucky was obviously the most worried of anyone.

“I hated myself because I knew there was something more I needed to be doing. I’ve done it now. I’m ready to be truly me again.”

Bucky was there, holding Steve’s hand when he received the shot. Steve felt pinpricks of pain all across his body. He felt an odd sensation of shrinking in his skin, and then it was over quite quickly. He held up his small hand in front of his face and examined the fragile thing. This was who he was now. Again. Steve felt a huge sense of relief swell in his chest.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so happy this story is already getting quite a bit of love :) keep the comments coming! I love to know what my readers think about each chapter. I hope you all like this first introduction of the reader character.

Five years ago, you had been training to be an officer in the CIA. Then, you had ceased to exist.

You had always been a nosy child, snooping on grown-up conversations and writing down everything you heard in a sparkly notebook. You could not fight the burning desires you had to look through your parents’ mail when they weren’t around, or to search your older sister’s room for incriminating things when she was staying the night at a friend’s house. It was never out of malice; it was a simple yearning to know all the things about the people around you. If you knew their darkest secrets, you could understand them fully and never be surprised by anything they did.

This propensity for sticking your nose into everyone’s business got you into heaps of trouble in grade school. Elementary teachers weren’t very fond of students looking through their desk drawers and filing cabinets. In order to prevent suspension and keep your parents off your back, you began to hone your skills. You wouldn’t dare stop being nosy; you just had to get better at being sneaky.

You never used the information you gained to cheat your way through life. You never even dreamed about stealing answers to tests or any such nonsense as that. You only had an interest in the kinds of secrets that defined a person, the things they only let themselves express in private. You had learned early on that nobody was ever their true self in the presence of any other person. People always put on a show for the public, even for their own family members. You snooped to find out who people truly were; what the essence of their beings was built from.

The only people you ever let in on your eavesdropping shenanigans were your two best friends, Sammie and Claire. The former had caught you looking through Claire’s locker in junior high and had instantly ratted you out to the other girl. You had apologized profusely, assuring them you meant no harm, explaining that you were compulsively curious. The two girls soon forgave you and made you promise to never snoop in either of their things again and insisted you share the secrets you learned about other people with them.

It was your senior year of high school when you had been struggling to choose a career path, that Sammie had suggested you become a spy. You hadn’t thought that was even a real profession, but the idea intrigued you, and you did excessive research once you went home that night.

In college, you majored in both Arabic and Sokovian with minors in Political Science and History. You worked relentlessly to become fluent in the two languages for you had learned multilingualism was a major skill the CIA was looking for in its officers. After obtaining your degree, you enlisted in the Army and served four years. This was another stepping-stone in your ultimate goal of being a spy.

After your contract with the Army was done, you returned home to your parents for a few short months to rest before beginning the grueling process that was ahead of you. You applied to the CIA trainee program five times before they accepted you, and when it finally happened you cried tears of joy for six straight hours. It was not a guarantee that you would become an officer. You had to take special classes and complete numerous physical and weapons exams. Overall, it would be at least a year’s time before you could actually call yourself a spy.

By this point in 2018, Claire was a fourth-grade teacher and Sammie worked in an advertisement firm. You three had stayed in touch all these years, remaining close friends through Claire’s difficult pregnancy at 22, your stressful years in the Army, and Sammie’s coming out to all her friends and family.

It was a spring month. You were sixth months through your training. Claire was celebrating another school year winding down. Sammie was excited about the new summer ads she was taking point on. Without any sort of warning or explanation, two of you were gone. Only Claire continued to live through the blip, thankfully her daughter remained with her.

Obviously, you didn’t learn all this until you began to exist once again. You and Sammie came back to discover your goddaughter five years older and her mother absolutely wrecked by the loss of her two best friends. Neither you nor Sammie had places to live anymore. Claire let the two of you share her spare bedroom for the foreseeable future. Sammie had lost her job at the advertisement company. And you. You had lost your spot in the CIA training program.

Your dream of being a spy was prolonged once more. You weren’t sure if the CIA would ever accept you again, no matter how many times you applied. You lost all sense of direction. This had been something you had worked towards for ten years, fifteen if you included the blip. Now, it had all been pulled away from you.

Your parents and sister had been blipped as well. Sammie’s girlfriend hadn’t. She was married to someone else now. You and your two friends lived in a state of shock and depression for several months, all three reeling over this crazy event that had thrown a wrench in all your lives.

It wasn’t until three months after your re-existence that you found a new purpose. You were eating cereal on the couch next to Claire’s daughter, Rebecca, when an Avengers’ press conference came on the news. Because of the many losses to their team, they were seeking new recruits trained well in combat and reconnaissance. You recognized the man speaking as Sam Wilson, formerly known as the Falcon but now dawning Captain America garb. He provided an email address to send resumes to and then gave a comedic threat that if anyone who wasn’t a serious candidate for the job sent spam emails to the account they would find the Winter Soldier at their door in the middle of the night.

You quickly jotted down the email address on a nearby notepad and sprinted to your bedroom to grab your laptop.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like this one as well! Chapters five and six will be uploaded tomorrow.

After your interview with both Sam Wilson and James Rhodes, a week went by in which you nervously awaited a phone call. Thankfully, it did come. You would officially begin training for the Avengers team the following day, along with two other selected trainees. You hadn’t met any of the other candidates they had interviewed, so you had no idea who your fellow initiates would be.

When he called, Wilson had informed you that you would be staying in the Avengers Tower during your training, and only when you were officially instated as an autonomous part of the team would you have the option to return to a home outside of the tower and be on call for missions. This served no problem for you considering you were still sharing Claire’s spare bedroom with Sammie. Your poor friend had been attending various interviews all week but had yet to obtain a new job.

When you told Sammie and Claire about your good news over dinner, twirling Low Mein around your fork, they were both stunned and happy for your future prospects.

“This is it Y/N,” Sammie was gripping your forearm excitedly, “this is what you’ve wanted since high school! I knew you could do it if you set your mind to it.”

“Yeah, I mean it’s not the CIA, but honestly I think this might be even better. Maybe losing my spot at the agency was the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Claire and Sammie both cringed a little at your remark, and you instantly backtracked. “Not that the blip was a good thing by any means. It fucked up a lot of people’s lives. I just meant… well, you know what I meant.”

They nodded their heads in understanding. “This will be great for you, Y/N. We wish you all the best,” Claire said with a lovely smile.

Training for the Avengers was much more strenuous than training for the CIA. You supposed if it came down to it, they wanted you in good enough shape to fight aliens or AI robots or super-soldiers rather than merely regular bad guys with guns. Your training compatriots were Olive and Angus. Olive had apparently worked for SHEILD way back in the day and had been trying to get a job here ever since the program was shut down. She was a very tall and muscular woman with copper skin and dark hair. She looked like the type of woman that could kick any alien’s ass with ease. You suspected she had some sort of enhanced fighting powers, but she insisted she was just a regular person with a lot of combat experience.

Angus had been a professional boxer and martial arts fighter before the blip. He could take you down during the training matchups in an instant. He also had a hidden interest in science and technology, and he was constantly begging Rhodey to issue him a Stark created suite to train in. Even though Rhodey always said no, you could tell by the look on his face that he was considering the idea. It would probably be nice for him to have another buddy in a suite alongside him in battle.

Even though your fellow trainees were formidable, you held your own. Neither Olive nor Angus were half as good at stealth as you were. Angus’ red hair made him stand out like a sore thumb, and he struggled with weapons training because his experience had only been in hand-to-hand combat. The three of you all had your different strengths, and you thought, perhaps, this is what Sam had been looking for when he selected you. The Avengers had worked so well in the past because they all had their own unique powers, and when someone’s weakness was exploited by the enemy, another team member could swoop in for backup.

The tower seemed sort of quiet and empty most of the time. You figured with most of the former Avengers being either retired or dead, it made sense that many of the floors went unoccupied at any given time of day. You had met most of the members now. Wanda often came to the training floor in order for you to practice fighting someone with enhanced abilities. Bucky Barnes was often in charge of weapons training, and you had never seen someone throw a knife so precisely.

One person you wondered the most about but never saw in the tower nor heard anyone speaking of was Captain Rogers. You knew he hadn’t died in the battle against Thanos because some fans had taken pictures with him at Central Park a few months ago, but you inferred that he must have retired because Sam was now wearing his suit and using his shield in training sessions. You often lay in your quarters at night thinking how odd it was that you had yet to run into the man. You even asked Olive and Angus if they had met him yet, and they both said no. Your curiosity deepened, and you thought maybe he had moved to a secluded home outside of the tower to get some privacy from the public.

It didn’t really make a lot of sense though. When Clint Barton had retired, they had announced it in a press conference. Why were they keeping the public in the dark about what was going on with Steve Rogers? These questions began to consume you. You couldn’t help it; it had always been your nature to be nosy. In the few hours between training and sleep each night, you began to do what you did best.

You spied.

You began sneaking around the tower, making notes of each member’s quarters, the floors they regularly visited, and how often they left the tower when not on missions. You knew that snooping around the Avengers’ personal lives was perhaps playing with fire, but you couldn’t rest until you figured out what happened to Steve Rogers. The maddening question was burning you alive from the inside out.

The previous day, you had just made note of a floor that Bucky Barnes often visited that you had no idea what it contained. You told yourself you’d go there first thing after hitting the gym this morning. When you arrived for your workout, you were surprised to find that you weren’t the first one there like every other morning. There was a man in the gym that you had never seen before. He was the same height as yourself, and he had a quite small frame. He was hitting a punching bag with all his might, but the bag never even budged an inch.

“Hello?” you called out.

He turned to look at you, and you nearly fainted in shock because he had the face of Steven Rogers.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to remind everyone here that I post all my fics on tumblr as well under the same name. So, if tumblr is more your thing than AO3, you're more than welcome to follow me over there.

Steve had been in his smaller form for a month and a half now, and he had mostly adjusted to it. He spent a lot of time going out to places that he couldn’t go before without being recognized. He binge-watched an embarrassing amount of TV shows and movies that he had never had time to catch up on before. Most of all, though, Steve was searching for his purpose once again.

It wasn’t long before he realized that he should get back into drawing. That had been something he always loved to do before the war. Hell, it had been the only thing he really could do, and it seemed natural to return to this favorite pastime once again. The floor that his quarters were located on held a large unused space, and Steve immediately decided to turn it into his personal art studio. He purchased two large bookshelves for the studio that he filled with various books of artwork catalogs, artistic techniques, and art history, all of which he purchased from his favorite bookshop near Central Park.

He then began filling the studio with blank canvases, special sketching pencils, paints, pottery wheels, sculpting tools, and anything related to art that he might think of. There were large tables and workbenches; the setup almost looked similar to Bruce’s lab, but Steve was doing a different kind of experimenting here.

Although he possessed all the tools for different art mediums, during that first month and a half he spent most of his time just drawing with a familiar pencil. He ended up with dozens of pieces, some of them landscape or still life, but most of them portraits of his friends. He had done multiple tributes to Tony, Natasha, and Vision. Then, he started to draw the people that were still in his life, and he made sure to convey just how wonderful they were in his eyes through the drawings. Once his pieces started to pile up, he began to debate what he should do with the artwork.

The first drawing he ever shared with anybody was a beautiful one of Vision. He gave it to Wanda in hopes that it would make her happy. She started crying as soon as she looked at it, but she assured him it was lovely and she would cherish it.

Bucky started coming around his studio, wondering what his retired best friend had been getting up to. When he saw all Steve’s work, Bucky said they were too wonderful to keep hidden. But Steve didn’t know who to share them with. He had only ever started drawing again to occupy himself, not to make any sort of money off them or anything. Eventually, he started slipping the random sketches under his friends’ doorways without explanation, hoping they would enjoy them just as much as Wanda had enjoyed the drawing of Vision.

It was only when he started feeling quite lethargic all the time that he decided it might be good for him to begin a workout regimen in between all his time cooped up in the studio. He asked Bruce which exercises would be safe for him to do, and the man had suggested Steve do the same physical activities that he had enjoyed post-serum, just with less intensity now. So, Steve started jogging, very slowly, through Central Park in the mornings. He didn’t have much trouble with his breathing considering Bruce had treated him for his asthma right after reversing the serum, but it still took him over ten minutes to complete one mile.

On a morning that was stormy and dreary, Steve decided to skip the run and test out how well this little body was at punching things. It was early enough that he hoped nobody else would be in the gym yet. He put on a fitted long-sleeve shirt and some sweat pants, wrapped his knuckles, and went to town on one of the normal punching bags, not specially reinforced for super-soldiers. It was quite humiliating how the bag didn’t even sway under his hardest punches and kicks. It felt good, though. Steve supposed exercise wasn’t only for fit people; it was for anyone who wanted to feel good about themselves and let off steam, no matter their body type.

He was nearing the end of his workout session when he heard a feminine voice call out behind him. He ceased his attack on the bag and turned his head to meet the eyes of a breathtaking woman. Shock appeared across her face when she saw him; he assumed she figured out who he was and couldn’t quite understand why he wasn’t a really tall beefed-up man anymore.

He began to walk toward her, holding out his hand. “I’m Steve. You are?”

She slowly took his hand, but remained silent. Steve surmised that her brain was probably having a hard time making sense of the situation. The woman was quite fit. Steve could feel how strong she was when she shook his hand. She was the same height as him, and her hair was tied back tightly in a braid.

“I know Sam is training up some new recruits. Are you one of them?”

“Um, yeah,” she finally answered him. “Sorry, I’m Y/N. You just caught me a little off guard is all.”

He nodded in understanding. “How’d you end up training for the Avengers?”

“I was training for the CIA, and then I disappeared in the snap. When I came back I had lost my spot.”

“Wow, that must have been hard.”

“Yeah, it sucked, but I’m really happy it led me here… Why haven’t I seen you around before?”

“Oh, I spend most of my time in my studio. And I typically run outside instead of coming to the gym, but the weather was bad today.”

“Studio?” she queried, and Steve could see the intense curiosity written across her face.

“Art studio. That’s the one thing I’ve always been good at other than fighting bad guys.”

She chuckled at his remark.

Just then, Sam walked in followed by two other people Steve had never met before. He assumed they were the other new recruits.

“Looks like I’ve gotta start my workout,” Y/N said to him.

“Of course, I’ll see you around.”

“If you ever leave your studio again,” she teased him.

“Well, maybe you could come see it sometime. It’s on the fourteenth floor.”

She grinned at him, and her eyes were alive with interest. “I’ll keep that in mind, Steve.”

He left the gym feeling more elated than he had in a long while.


	6. Chapter 6

He had suspected Y/N would find her way to his studio eventually, but he never imagined she would come by that very same day. He had been staring at a completely blank canvas for a ridiculously long time with a pallet of paint held in the crook of his arm when he heard a voice behind him.

“I don’t think it’s going to paint itself.”

Steve rolled his eyes playfully as he turned to face her. “Yeah, I’m aware. I was just mentally preparing myself.”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Do you really need to prepare for ten minutes before you’re able to put the brush on the canvas?”

“Have you really been standing there for ten minutes?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “I’m quite sneaky when I want to be.”

“Creeper,” he jested.

“I had no intention of creeping. When I walked in, it looked like you were about to start painting, so I stopped to watch, but ten minutes went by and nothing happened.”

Steve groaned in defeat, tossing his paints and brush back down on his worktable. “I’m trying to branch out into new mediums, but it’s not going so well.”

“You’ve never painted before?”

“Nope.”

“So, what kind of art do you usually do?”

He walked over to the bookshelf where he kept his portfolio of sketches. He found a nice one of Sam and Bucky arm wrestling and handed it to her.

“Pencil sketches? Wow, this is really beautiful Steve. It’s amazing how much detail you can get with one shade of grey.”

“Yeah, maybe that’s the problem. I’m used to creating dimensions to the pieces through means of shading. With painting, the work is all in the color selection.”

She shrugged again. “I suppose. I don’t really know much about art.”

“Yeah, me neither really.”

“Maybe you should try something other than painting.” She took a seat at one of his benches.

“Like what?”

She gestured to his untouched pottery wheel. “How about that? You don’t have to worry about color so much there; it’s more about the shape, right?”

“I suppose so.” Steve moved to his supply cabinet looking for the materials he would need to create pottery. “How has training been going? Sam not annoying you too much, I hope.”

“No, he’s great. He pretends to be strict every once in a while, but he’s actually just a really funny guy.”

“Yeah, he’s the resident comedian around here. He makes a great leader, though.”

She tapped her fingertips across the worktable, biting her lip nervously. “About that… I was wondering… how exactly did he become the new Captain America… and well… how exactly did you become like this again.” She was gesturing to Steve’s small stature as she finished.

He stepped away from the cabinet, his arms full of supplies. “I wanted to retire, but it’s kind of hard to stop being Captain America when you still look like Captain America.”

She still seemed rather confused. “Okay…?”

“I handed the shield over to Sam, and then a little while later, I talked to Bruce about reversing the serum. He was able to figure it out in no time. Long story short, I’m the regular old me again.”

“Sounds simple enough, I guess,” she half-joked. Steve sat down in front of the wheel and threw some wet clay at it. “What was Thanos like?” slipped from Y/N’s mouth next.

Steve’s eyebrows went up to his hairline. “Nothing stops you from asking the hard questions, does it?”

She had the decency to look a little ashamed. “Sorry. I’m just a naturally nosy person.”

“Hence the desire to be a spy?” Steve guessed.

She nodded in affirmation.

He did end up telling her about Thanos. And then he explained how exactly the infinity stones worked. An hour later, he was giving an in-depth account of the time-heist and the huge battle that immediately followed. Steve wasn’t sure why he was telling all of these things to a woman he had only met that morning, other than if she was going to be on the team now, she deserved to be aware of the sorts of threats the Avengers faced. She never once lost interest as she watched him fumble around with his pottery and drone on about Guardians of the Galaxy, Wakanda, and wizards that could create magic portals.

He could see that Y/N hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d called herself nosy. The entirety of her being screamed curiosity and interest in all things so far unknown to her. He would bet anything that she could not rest each day until she had learned something new about a person. And this eagerness that Steve saw in her attracted him immensely.

Not that she wasn’t physically attractive because, god, she was. He couldn’t remember laying eyes on such a gorgeous woman since Peggy. She wasn’t as bold and in charge as Peggy had been, though. Peggy had seen Steve when he was small, but she had always been the type of woman that was suited more to Captain America. Peggy was attracted to the hero in Steve.

When he lay in bed that night, after the most eventful day he’d had since taking the reverse serum, he let himself consider that Y/N might just be the type of woman to be attracted to the quiet artist in Steve. She seemed okay living in the shadows, for one was prone to learn more secrets there, and Steve wanted to eventually settle down with a woman and lead a quiet life out of the spotlight.

He knew it was crazy to already be thinking about her this way, and there was a real possibility that she wasn’t attracted to him in the slightest and only wanted to be friends. Steve decided that his only real course of action could be to get to know her better and possibly ask her on a date when the time felt right.

He set his alarm for early the next morning in hopes that the weather would be nice enough for a run. Before dozing off, he made a mental promise to attempt painting once again the following day. Steve was stubborn and determined if nothing else, and he wouldn’t let a silly canvas and some silly paints get the best of him.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for all the support on this story! I am now switching to a one chapter per day schedule. I know the two chapters a day was nice, but it's just not possible for me to do that for this entire story considering I have multiple other things I'm writing. I can tell you that I have a four-part Bucky/reader mini-series going up on 09/04, and all four parts will be up on the same day. So, if you're interested in that ship, keep an eye out. The total word count will be something around 7k.

“That one was better, but you’re still too stiff in the wrist, doll.”

“Lose the pet names, Sergeant,” you admonished him as he walked over to the target to retrieve your knife.

“Sorry. It just slips out sometimes. Back in the day, I called pretty much every woman doll.”

“Is you telling me this supposed to make me want to be called that?” you asked skeptically.

“What? No, I just meant that it’s a habit. One that I probably need to break before I end up with a kick to the groin.”

“Oh, are we kicking Barnes in the groin today?” Sam said from behind the two of you. “I thought that was on Wednesdays, but if we’re stepping it up to twice a week now, I’m game.”

“You’re not funny, Wilson,” Bucky said as he twirled your knife expertly between his fingers.

The Sergeant had become your best training buddy lately. It was probably due to the fact that weapons and stealth were your favorite areas to work on, and those were the man’s specialties.

“Hey now, watch where you’re pointing that knife, Robocop.”

Bucky smirked at his friend. “Why? Scared?”

“Of you? Never.”

“Not even when I ripped the steering wheel out of your car while you were driving it?”

“I ought to beat the shit out of you right now for that,” Sam said as he stepped closer to Bucky.

You put an arm in between them. “All right, boys. Nobody’s in the mood to watch you battle it out today. Cool it.”

“What’d you need anyway, Sam,” Bucky asked as he handed the knife back to you.

“Oh, I was wondering if you had seen Steve today. I was looking for him, but he’s not in his studio.”

“I was with him this morning,” slipped out of your mouth for some reason as you flung the knife at the target once again, this time hitting the bullseye.

The two men gave you looks of surprise.

“Since when do you hang out with Steve?” Bucky wondered.

You looked around, awkwardly trying to avoid their suspicious eyes. “For a few weeks, I guess.”

“And what do the two of you do together?” Bucky was definitely teasing you now.

“Not that it’s any of your business, Sarge, but we mostly just hang out in his studio and talk.”

“Are you blushing? She’s blushing,” Sam chimed in.

“You’re sweet on Stevie, aren’t you?” Bucky pestered.

“Of course not,” you insisted.

“Well, why not? You saying there’s something wrong with Steve?” Sam was interrogating you now.

“What? No.” God, you really weren’t in the mood to deal with this line of questioning right now.

“Don’t you two have something better to do than berate me?”

“You never mentioned where Steve was when you saw him,” Bucky pointed out.

“He was on his way out of the tower. Mentioned going back to that bookshop.”

“Again?”

“He’s been having some trouble getting into painting. I think he was looking to purchase some more books on the subject.” You hoped Steve wouldn’t be mad at you for telling his friends that.

“Well,” Sam held out an envelope to you, “since you see him more than I do these days, will you pass this along?”

“What is it?”

“None of your concern. Just give it to Steve, please.” You nodded your head.

The moment you were alone in your quarters, you felt the magnetic pull to snoop in the envelope. But Steve was your friend, and he was always so kind to you. What if he found out somehow and never forgave you? You reasoned that if you just gave it to him when he was in his studio, he would probably open it in front of you and share with you what it said.

You waited until later that evening when you were sure Steve would be back from the bookstore.

“Special delivery,” you announced at his studio doorway. He was throwing pottery again, and the piece was actually starting to resemble a vase. “You’re getting pretty good at that.”

“Yeah, I stare at that blank painting canvas for a while, makes me angry, and then I take out all my frustration on this clay.”

You walked into the room and threw the envelope down on the table. “Seems healthy,” you teased him.

“You said you had a delivery for me?” He stopped the wheel and stood up, walking toward you with his hands still caked in wet clay.

“Yup,” you pointed to the envelope.

“You already looked through it, didn’t you,” he accused as he held his dirty hands up to you threateningly.

“What kind of woman do you think I am? And don’t you dare touch me with those hands, Steve Rogers.”

“The nosy kind.” He lunged to smear the clay across your face, but you were expecting it and dodged him just in time.

You sped around the worktable, keeping a safe distance from the deranged pottery man. “I’m warning you, Steve. You get my clothes or hair dirty, and you’ll regret it.”

He chased you around some more, cornering you at last. As he drew nearer, you looked to your left and grabbed the first thing you saw.

“You wouldn’t risk dirtying up this drawing of Bucky, would you?”

He merely shrugged and continued to smile in that playfully menacing way. “Jokes on you. I have enough portraits of that ugly punk, anyway.” He pushed the sketch out of the way and caressed your face and hair in both of his clay-caked hands.

“I hate you. And I’m telling Bucky you said he was ugly.”

“I’m not afraid of him.”

“Not even when he ripped the steering wheel out of Sam’s car while he was driving it?”

Steve gave a surprised laugh. “How’d you know about that?”

“It’s amazing the things those idiots talk about during training.” You walked over to the sink and wetted down a towel to wipe off your face.

Steve appeared next to you, close enough that your hips were almost touching, and he stuck his palms under the running water. “Want to open that for me?”

“You want me to open it? What if it’s something private?”

“I trust you not to go sharing all my secrets with everyone,” he said with a comforting smile. It made your heart do strange fluttery things.

You picked up the envelope and quickly pulled out a letter. Your eyes scanned over the words quickly, and you found yourself feeling quite impressed.

“Well?” Steve looked at you expectantly.

“Some rich guy is offering to buy your artwork for heaps of money. He wants to start an Avengers museum.”

Steve didn’t look so excited. “What the hell? How did he even see any of my artwork?”

“Says here that James Rhodes showed some to him.”

Steve huffed in anger, and you racked your brain trying to figure out why he was having such a negative reaction to this news. “Isn’t this a good thing? Your sketches are just piling up, and he’s offering you loads of money for them.”

“I don’t need the money. I was never doing this for a career. It’s a hobby, nothing more.”

“Okay, so you don’t need the money. That rich guy apparently doesn’t need it either. Why don’t you take his offer and then donate the money he gives you to charity?”

You watched Steve’s eyes brighten as he considered your idea.


	8. Chapter 8

“God damn it, Y/L/N! You wanna tell me what the hell that was?!”

You’d just landed back at the tower, returning from your first supervised mission. Captain America, aka Sam Wilson, was rightfully reprimanding you.

“I’m sorry. I just thought it might be info that we could use.”

“No, no, no. You don’t get to pretend you were doing that for the betterment of the team. Let’s get one thing crystal clear. You will never sacrifice a mission to satisfy one of your personal whims, or you will not be a part of this team any longer. Got it?”

He was right. You really had fucked up, and it was nobody’s fault but your own. But it still sucked getting yelled at in front of the entire team. You curtly nodded your head at Sam. “Yes, Captain. I understand.”

Sam looked on to the entire group, ignoring you. “You’re all free to go.”

You quickly walked to your quarters with your head down, feeling the tears well up in your eyes. You had been so unbelievably stupid. The mission had involved scoping out a location, surveillance only, in order to form a proper plan of an ambush when a local crime group was set to meet there. The building had been empty, but you had come across a room with some computers. You felt that burning curiosity bubble up once again, and you thought it wouldn’t hurt to take a peek at the contents of the computers. You were able to hack your way through the password protection, but this immediately set an alarm off throughout the entire building. The whole team had to book it, and now the crime group would be fully aware that someone had found their meeting place.

You had ruined the mission, all because you couldn’t ignore your most definitive trait. You had always seen your nosiness and sneakiness as good things; they had gotten you a spot on the Avengers team, so they couldn’t be that bad. But they clearly interfered with your ability to always follow orders. You had run into this problem a few times in the Army as well.

As you stood in the shower, crying your eyes out, you wondered if maybe you should try to control your curiosity a little better.

After you had put on some pajamas and sat on your bed brushing through your damp hair, someone knocked at your door. You sat the brush down, glanced in the mirror at your puffy eyes that you couldn’t really do anything about, and then opened the door to find Steve. He looked so handsome today wearing a blue flannel that was unbuttoned over a white T-shirt. He wore his hair a bit shorter on the sides and longer on the top, and the perfect shade of blonde looked like spun gold. The blue in his shirt electrified the blue of his eyes, and you felt very self-conscious looking into them with your puffy red ones.

“Hey,” he said softly, still standing there in your bedroom doorway. “I heard about what happened on the mission, and I thought you might need some cheering up.”

You let out a miserable groan. “Oh god, you heard already. That was fast.”

“Well, I am best friends with both your Captain and your Sergeant.”

“Right,” you said in a pouty tone. “Want to come in, then?” You gestured to your boring looking room.

“Sure. I thought maybe we could watch a movie or something? Your choice.”

“Oh, you’re going to regret that, Steve.”

“Surely your taste in movies isn’t that bad,” he remarked as he shut your door and made his way over to sit at the edge of your bed.

You walked over to your TV and grabbed the remote. “There’s only one movie I like to watch when I’m upset: My Best Friend’s Wedding.

“Never heard of it,” he shrugged.

“You’re in for a wild ride. Do you like Dionne Warwick’s music?”

“I do, actually.”

You turned it on and sat back against your headboard, motioning for him to scoot up next to you.

“You might actually like this film then.”

He kicked off his shoes and fully joined you on the bed. “I brought you something.” He dug a folded piece of paper out of his back pocket and handed it to you. “I drew it a while ago and hadn’t planned on showing you, but you seemed like you needed it today.”

You took it from him and unfolded it to find a sketch of you the day he had smeared clay all over your face and in your hair.

“Of all the moments of me, this is the one you had to capture on paper?” But you were grinning and blushing because Steve must really look at you a lot to get all those tiny details right.

“That’s one of my favorite days,” was all he said.

You pulled him in for a hug, tears leaking from your eyes once more. “I love it. Thank you, Steve.”

When you pulled away, he saw that you were crying and raised his thumb to wipe the tears from your face. “Hey, this was supposed to cheer you up, not make you sad again.”

“No, it is. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. I’ve gotten yelled at way worse than that before. I guess I just respect Sam and Bucky and the whole team so much. I never want to disappoint them again.”

“I understand, but nobody is perfect. Just promise yourself to do better next time. That’s all you can do.”

You nodded your head in acknowledgment of his advice. “Speaking of that day with the clay, did you ever get in touch with that rich guy?”

“Sure did. Sold him ten different sketches for a thousand apiece. And he’s already asking for more. Said a few of his friends might be getting in touch with me as well.”

“Wow. What’d you do with the money?”

“I split it up between a few different charities. I was thinking, though, of getting as many pieces done as I can and holding some sort of charity auction with them.”

“You should, Steve. People are clearly willing to pay a lot of money for art of the Avengers done by an Avenger. You could help so many people with the money you would raise.”

“Okay. It’s settled, then.” He pointed at you conspiratorially. “But you have to help me plan it.”

“Obviously! Now be quiet. We’re missing the opening musical number.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted to let all of you know that if you like to read HP fanfiction as well, I have a Sirius Black/reader fic up now. Go check it out if that's something you're interested in :D

Steve flexed his arm in the mirror of his bedroom. He was actually building some nice muscle tone. It was pretty impressive. He still went jogging every day and had managed to get his mile time down to seven minutes. His calves and thighs were no longer complete skin and bones. He had started doing crunches to strengthen his core muscles. Now, he was considering going to the gym during normal daylight hours. Up to this point, he had avoided working out in front of anyone else, but his confidence was growing every day, and he thought it might not be so embarrassing to work out among people now that the punching bag actually moved when he hit it.

He still wore sweat pants and a long sleeve shirt to cover most of his small frame, but he didn’t feel self-conscious at all as he marched into the gym and past the new recruits sparring over to his favorite punching bag. He put in some earbuds and selected some music before returning his phone to his pocket. A playlist Y/N had made for him filled his ears, and he attacked the bag with a vengeance.

Around thirty minutes later, Steve felt a large metal hand clap down on his shoulder. He ceased his workout and pulled out his earbuds.

“What’d the guy do, say something rude in a movie theatre?” Bucky joked.

“Very funny, Buck.”

“I was just coming over to see if you wanted to watch the new recruits run the obstacle course. You haven’t gotten to watch them showcase any of their skills yet.”

“But I’m not on the team anymore. I figured you guys didn’t want me interfering with training.”

“You wouldn’t be interfering, you’d be watching. Just don’t go throwing your disappointed look around and using your Captain voice, and it’ll be fine.”

Steve scoffed. “Captain voice? I don’t have a Captain voice.”

Bucky rolled his eyes. “Right. Come on,” he motioned for Steve to follow him to the section of the gym that was arranged with obstacles.

“Now,” Bucky said loudly to Y/N, Olive, and Angus, “You have all three already mastered this course, but this time we’re throwing in a few extra surprises… literally.”

Steve studied the determined look on Y/N’s face. “What does that mean?” she demanded of Bucky.

“It means keep an eye out or you might lose one.”

“What are you planning on doing to them, Bucky?” Steve whispered to his friend in worry. The trainees were now stretching and preparing themselves to run the course.

“I’m throwing knives at them and Wanda is gonna move the obstacles around with her powers,” Bucky explained quietly enough that only Steve could hear him.

“Jesus Buck, are you trying to kill them?”

“You know they face way worse than this out in the field, Steve.”

Bucky had a point, but Steve still didn’t like it. He furrowed his brows in worry.

“What did I say about using the disappointed face?”

“What? I wasn’t… that wasn’t… I don’t have a disappointed face,” Steve stammered.

Bucky chose to ignore him, speaking to the trainees again instead. “Since you’re so curious, you can go first Y/N.”

Steve noticed her face turning a little red, probably from embarrassment at being called out for her curiosity. “Fine,” was all she said as she stepped up to the starting point.

Sam was standing off to the side of the course, and he counted down the mark for her to begin. Once she took off running, Bucky unzipped a duffle bag that Steve hadn’t noticed before and began pulling out all sorts of knives ranging in size.

The image of Y/N dead with a knife in her neck or skull flashed in Steve’s brain. He had to urge his friend not to do this. “Bucky, please. She doesn’t even know what to expect. What if you catch her completely off guard and she’s dead before you can do anything about it.”

“Steve, relax. That’s the other reason we have Wanda here. If Y/N lets a knife get too close without dodging it, Wanda will stop it. And I’m aiming for non-lethal targets on the body anyway. Your girlfriend will be fine.”

“My… what?! She’s not my girlfriend,” Steve hissed at his friend.

Bucky ignored him once again and lifted the first knife. He flung it straight at the back of Y/N’s left knee. Steve watched on in horror as it drew closer and closer.

She leaped out of the way just in time. “The Winter Soldier throwing knives at us. Why doesn’t that surprise me?” she quipped as she picked up her pace through the course.

As she was climbing an obstacle, Wanda began to move it. Y/N nearly fell off, but she regained her balance at the last second. Bucky continued his onslaught of flying knives, but none of them seemed to faze the woman. The closest one came to injuring her was when it sliced off the end of her braid. She shouted every curse she could think of at Bucky for the remainder of her run.

When she came to the finish line, Sam announced her time, which had been a personal best. She walked straight over to Bucky’s bag of knives and pulled one out, fiddling with it in her fingers. “Come here, Bucky,” she said.

To Steve’s surprise, Bucky actually looked a little frightened. “What are you gonna do with that?” his friend asked her.

“An eye for an eye, or in this case,” she examined the tips of her braid, “two inches of hair for two inches of hair.”

“Not my fault you didn’t dodge it,” Bucky told her.

“I did dodge it. My hair just didn’t follow.”

“You’re up next, Angus,” Sam called out.

“Now is not the time for you to give me a haircut,” he scolded the trainee.

Steve met Y/N’s eyes and a brilliant idea formed because he really wanted to see someone get one over on his punk best friend for once. He subtly winked at the woman, letting her know to be ready.

“Hey Buck,” Steve said loudly, calling the man’s attention. It only distracted him for half an instant, but Y/N had been learning knife throwing from the best. Only a protégé of the Winter Soldier could best the Winter Soldier. All her laborious training had been worth it just for this moment. She was quick as a flash, and when Bucky’s eyes had flicked to Steve’s, the knife disappeared from Y/N’s hand and sliced through the tips of Bucky’s long hair.

He looked at the severed locks on the ground in terror as he realized what had just happened. Then the understanding that Steve had been helping her dawned on his face.

He gave Steve a death glare. “You little bastard. I’m gonna kick your ass, Stevie.”

Both Steve and Y/N could do nothing but howl in laughter.

It wasn’t until later that evening that Steve returned to the feelings that had overcome him when he thought Y/N had been in danger of getting stabbed. He found himself considering that he cared far more for the woman than he had thought before.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Final drabble for Wish You Were Here is going up tomorrow, so make sure to get caught up on that story before then :)

Steve was focusing hard on the task at hand.

“Not doing pottery anymore?” he heard from the doorway of his studio.

He didn’t even look up from the wooden statue he was carving as he answered her. “For now, no. I’ve gotta sell some of my pieces soon because my shelves are completely full.”

“Figured out when you want to hold the auction yet?”

“I’m thinking we could swing it a month from now.”

He heard her footsteps coming closer to the worktable he was sitting at. “Still not ready to tackle painting?”

“I try it almost every day, but nothing ever comes to me.”

Y/N sat down across from him. “I think that’s the problem: you’re trying too hard. You just need to start painting what feels right rather than trying to map it all out in your head first.”

Steve finally looked up at her, smirking as he said, “If it’s so easy, you do it.”

“I’m not an artist. I don’t feel anything when I look at a blank canvas. But I know you do, Steve, and you’re just trying too hard to ignore it for some reason.”

He sighed, looking back down at the wooden figure in his hands. “You’re right, as usual.”

“Was that a compliment from Steve Rogers? I’m in shock,” Y/N teased sarcastically.

“Please, I compliment you all the time. It’s amazing your head isn’t the size of Jupiter with how much I flatter your ego.”

“I don’t know… my brain seems to have forgotten all these instances of compliments…” she said dramatically.

“Now you’re just fishing.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she told him with a giggle.

He shook his head and chuckled, carving out a few more fine lines on the figurine. The room fell silent for a moment before Steve said, “Incredibly agile, a perfect spy, a fearsome fighter, an expert knife thrower, a great team member, a loyal friend, a beautiful person.”

When he looked at her again, her mouth was hanging slightly open and her cheeks were tinged with pink. “Wh… what?”

“Come on, now. If you’re fishing for compliments, you can’t suddenly get all humble when someone gives them to you.”

She looked away from him, obviously embarrassed, and cleared her throat. “What’s that you’re carving?”

Steve let her abrupt change of subject slide. “It’s Tony. It’s a gift I’m making for someone.”

“Really? Who?”

Steve didn’t answer her question. “That reminds me, would you wanna go on a little road trip with me this afternoon?”

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?”

“Nope.”

“Ugh, fine. I’ll go with you, but only because if I have to spend another day cooped up in this tower with the likes of Pigeon and Terminator, I’ll go insane.”

Three hours later, they were in the parking garage arguing over which vehicle to take.

“Motorcycles are not safe modes of transportation.”

“But they are fun modes of transportation,” Steve pointed out.

“It’s not happening. Pick one of the other dozen options down here that actually has a seat belt and a roof.”

“Okay, fine. We’ll take Bucky’s car, but if we wreck it, I’m blaming you.” Steve grabbed the keys for it from the lockbox and walked over, opening the passenger door for Y/N. It was just one of those old-timey habits he didn’t feel the need to break.

“Uh, thanks,” she said to him awkwardly as she got in. Once Steve started the car, Y/N asked him, “Speaking of Bucky, is he still mad at you over the hair thing too? Or am I the only one getting the cold shoulder?”

“Not just you. Bucky can hold a grudge longer than anyone I’ve ever known.”

“Great… It’s a wonder he hasn’t kicked me off the team yet.”

“You know he wouldn’t do that. He just wants to make you feel bad enough to say you’re sorry and grovel a little.”

“Well, I hope he’s not holding his breath. He cut my hair first, so I feel no guilt, you know.”

Steve laughed. “I know.”

They pulled up to Pepper’s cabin on the lake a couple of hours later. After only a moment, the woman was standing on her front porch, looking to see who was trespassing.

“Is that…?”

“Pepper Potts? Yeah.”

“Steve, I don’t know if this is a good idea.”

But he ignored her doubts, opening his door to get out. “Come on. There’s someone else here that I want you to meet, as well.”

She reluctantly got out of the car.

“Hi Pepper! How ya been?” he called up to the porch.

“Steve? Wow, I know Bruce said you reversed the serum, but it’s still really shocking seeing you like this.”

“Yeah, I know. You get used to it after a while, though.”

“Uncle Stevie?” a small voice came from behind Pepper.

“Is that my favorite niece I hear?” He smiled at the little girl peeking around her mother’s legs. “Morgan, there’s someone I want you to meet.” Steve nodded to the woman walking over to him now. “She’s the newest Avenger. Her name is Y/N.”

She greeted Pepper and then squatted down to meet Morgan’s eye level and shake her tiny hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

Morgan gave her a shy smile, and Steve’s heart warmed.

“I brought you a present,” he told the little girl. Her eyes instantly lit up in excitement.

He dug the wooden statue out of his coat pocket and handed it over.

“It’s my dad,” Morgan instantly recognized.

Steve nodded his head. “It is. Do you like it?”

“Yup,” she answered with a smile.

They stayed for dinner, Steve catching Pepper up on everything that had been going on at the tower. He mentioned the art auction idea to her, and she said that she and Morgan would for sure come to it. When Morgan sat down in the living room floor with some action figures, Y/N offered to play with her, and Steve watched on with a fluttery feeling in his stomach.

“What’s going on there?” Pepper asked him in a hushed tone as they still sat at the kitchen table. Steve glanced up to see that she was looking between him and Y/N.

“We’re friends.”

“But you like her?”

“I do. But I don’t think she is attracted to me like this.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Just a feeling.”

“A feeling coming from your own self-doubt or from something she’s actually done or said?”

Steve frowned. “The former, I suppose.”

“Steve, if you were confident enough to change back into this form, then you should be confident enough to believe a woman could love you as you are.”

“I just didn’t expect to fall for someone that’s an Avenger now. I thought I’d meet a regular woman that would be perfectly fine with a man that’s not big and strong.”

“Unless you’ve asked Y/N if that’s what she wants, a big and strong man, then I think that’s a bit of misogyny coming out in you.”

“I want simplicity, a married life, and children. She’s just starting her career. I doubt she wants any of the same things.”

“People are willing to make nearly anything work to be with someone they love. You’d be surprised.”

Steve took in Pepper’s words, but he wasn’t sure he was ready to face them yet.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A new Steve/reader one-shot is going up tomorrow. Keep an eye out for it!

Children were running around you in chaos. A short little girl with curly red hair bumped into you and nearly made you spill your glass of wine. “Shit,” you said under your breath as you watched the dark red liquid slosh to the edge of the glass. You didn’t think Claire would appreciate red wine being spilled on her fluffy white carpet.

“When are we getting cake?!” a little boy screeched from atop the chair he had climb and stood on.

As much as you hated children’s birthday parties, you were happy to be here for your goddaughter Rebecca. Even more so, you were happy to spend some quality time with Sammie and Claire again. It had been ages since you had last seen them. You loved your new life and the new friends you had made at Avengers Tower, but nobody could ever replace the best friends you had had since junior high.

“Cake isn’t for another thirty minutes,” Claire enounced, and every child in the room groaned and whined. “Oh hush. Outside, all of you. You need to get some energy out.” The large group of rambunctious children filed out into the back yard.

You and your two friends collapsed on the couch once the house had fallen quiet. “How are you liking your new job, Sammie?” you asked her. She was working in public relations now, and you honestly thought she seemed happier than she had ever been while working in advertising.

“Oh, it’s going great. But we’re not here to talk about my boring job.”

“I mean, I thought we were here to celebrate Rebecca’s birthday…”

“Nooooo, we’re here to find out all the Avengers gossip you’ve been holding onto.”

“Oh jeez. You know I can’t reveal confidential stuff.”

“We don’t care about your missions and stuff. We want the details on Steve Rogers and his hunky best friends,” Claire said.

“And which friends would those be?”

“The new Captain America and the Winter Soldier.”

“Well, I gave Bucky a haircut.”

Claire let out a genuine panicked gasp. “No! His hair is gone? Why would you do that?”

“Relax. It was only a couple of inches. It’s practically grown back by now.”

“What about Wanda? What’s she like?” Sammie inquired.

“Decidedly straight,” you informed her. “And still mourning her dead lover.”

“Oh shit, that’s sad.”

“Yup.”

“What’s Sam Wilson’s relationship status?” Claire wondered.

“I have no idea. He seems like the one-night-stand type.”

“I’d be down for that,” she admitted.

You ignored Claire and turned to Sammie again. “One of my fellow new recruits seems like she’d be your type, Sam.”

“Oh?”

“Her name’s Olive. She’s a badass.”

“You should give her my number.”

“Will do.”

Claire studied you intently. “So, are you sleeping with Bucky?”

You snorted some of the wine you had just taken a sip of. “With Bucky? Of course not!”

“Then how did you end up giving him a haircut?”

“That was more a joke than anything else. Plus, he’s my Sergeant. That would make things rather complicated, don’t you think?”

“Is that the only reason you’re not going for it?”

You avoided meeting her eye. Before you were forced to spill the beans about your crush on Steve, the mob of children came charging back in from the yard with another round of “We want cake!”

That night you went down to the target range to clear your head a bit. To no surprise, Bucky was there as well, but what was surprising was him shooting a bow and arrow.

“What the actual fuck, Sarge?”

“I needed a new hobby to practice. It gets a little boring with knives and guns when I hit the bullseye without even looking.”

You pulled out your phone. “Right. I’m calling Barton right now to tell him how much you miss him.”

“First of all, not true. Second of all, don’t you fucking dare.”

You smirked and slipped the phone back into your pocket. You then walked over to the weapons closet and grabbed a bow and a rack of arrows as well. “Oh what the hell, I’ll give it a try too.”

“What are you trying to forget about today?” Bucky asked you as he released the string and another arrow went flying.

“What makes you think I’m trying to forget something?”

“We’ve been training together for how many months now? You come to the weapons range when you’re in a shit mood and something is really bothering you.”

You shot your first arrow; it hit the outer edge of the target. “I don’t really think it’s something I can talk to you about.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s about your best friend.”

“Oh… so this is about your huge crush on Steve?”

“I don’t… It’s not a huge crush. It’s more of a moderate crush.”

Bucky just gave you a knowing look.

“Fine, it’s a huge crush.”

“And what’s the problem?”

“Well, he transformed back into his normal self so that he could live an ordinary life married to some ordinary woman, right? I don’t think he wants to be tied to someone that’s still living the Avengers lifestyle that he’s so ready to move past.”

“I don’t think Steve has a specific type of woman in his mind that he’s searching for. He just wants someone that will appreciate him as he is. You obviously do. I bet you could make things work even though you’re an Avenger.”

Your true insecurities were really showing their head. You had dated a few guys back in college, but they had always been so intimidated by your ambition. Your CIA career goals always consumed you, and the men in your life never found this obsession quite so attractive after a while. What if Steve wasn’t attracted to you for the same reasons: he didn’t want a woman so focused on her career?

“Then why hasn’t he asked me out yet? We spend nearly every day together that I’m not training or on a mission.”

“Probably thinks you’re way out of his league. Which you’re not, by the way.”

You quirked one eyebrow at him, trying to figure out if that had been an insult.

“Don’t get me wrong, you’re gorgeous, and you’re a wonderful person, Y/N. But Steve is the best person I’ve ever met. He deserves a woman who’s gonna give him the world. I don’t think you’re out of his league. I think you equally deserve each other, as long as you don’t break his heart.”

Late into the night, you wondered through the common room on your way back to your quarters from the target range. You nearly let out an ugly screech when Steve’s presence on the large couch startled the shit out of you. He had a sketchpad and you wondered why he was here rather than in his studio.

You walked over to the back of the couch and leaned down behind him to look at what he was sketching. You thought you heard his breath hitch when he felt how close you were.

“This looks different than your other sketches,” you whispered.

“That’s because it’s with charcoal instead of graphite.”

You studied it some more. “Huh, I like it.”

He turned his head slightly so that he could look at you from the corner of his eye. “Where you been all day?”

But you hadn’t registered his question because you were staring at his lips and how utterly close to yours they were. It seemed like a hundred moments passed as you contemplated making a move. Was this the right way to go about this? Or should you be patient and wait for the man to properly ask you out? You really had no idea what to do.

Before you could come to any kind of decision, Steve was talking again. “Y/N? Did you heard me?” It snapped you out of your trance. You walked around the couch and sat down next to him. The two of you stayed up until nearly dawn telling each other about your respective days.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Go check out my new Steve/reader one-shot titled Love and a Prank War.

You were in Steve’s studio, alone. He had asked you to meet him here to work on planning for the auction, but apparently, he was running late because you were stood in his empty studio, glancing around at all his artwork and frequently checking your watch. You walked over to his most recent charcoal drawings and admired the delicate work in each one. He had portrayed Sam in his new suit, looking powerful and leader-like. There was one of Bruce down in his lab, hair all frazzled and looking like a mad scientist. Then there was one of you and Bucky the moment after you had thrown that knife at his hair. Steve had perfectly captured the horror on Bucky’s face and the accomplished look on yours.

There was an empty table in Steve’s studio that he never used for anything. You carried those three charcoal drawings over to it, and then you grabbed a sticky note and wrote ‘pieces for the auction.’ Steve had been meant to make his selections for the auction ages ago, but he still hadn’t gotten around to it. You decided you would do it for him. You looked through his pencil sketches next. You found several of the team all together, minus Steve; he never seemed to include himself in any of his pieces. There were some of Wanda, a few images of Steve’s friends from Wakanda, and he had even drawn some portraits of Dr. Strange. There wasn’t a single person that Steve couldn’t capture perfectly. Every time you came across a drawing of you, it still stunned you how Steve somehow saw you better than you saw yourself.

You moved a bunch of his pottery over to the auction collection. He had done vases and goblets and pieces that were more abstract than useful. Finally, you found his collection of wooden figurines. You selected ones of the War Machine, Vision, and Spiderman; you were surprised to find that he had even done some of Olive and Angus. Over to the auction table, they all went. You knew there were plenty of pieces to sell now, and you were sure that Steve could raise nearly a hundred thousand dollars from this collection to give to charity.

“What’s all this about?” Steve asked when he found you.

“My selections for the auction. Obviously, the final say is yours. You can take anything off the table that you don’t want to sell. But these are the things that I thought would raise the most money.”

He walked over and stood beside you, looking at all the artworks you had chosen. He reached out to the one of you and Bucky. “Not this one,” was all he said as he put it back into his sketching portfolio.

“Is there a different portrait of Bucky you could sell instead?”

He rustled through them and pulled out one of Bucky sleeping in the common area with his metal arm hanging off the couch and drool dripping from his mouth. “This one should do.”

He handed it to you to place on the table. “Wow, you really have a gift for catching people in their worst moments.”

“Or their best moments. Depends on how you look at it,” he countered with a fond smile.

The two of you ordered pizza and ate it while you finished making the invitations for the auction. It was in two weeks, and you had to get them sent out tomorrow if you expected anyone to show up to the event.

“What sort of food do you think we should have the caterers serve?” Steve asked you with a mouth full of pepperoni and cheese.

You grimaced at his complete lack of manners. “I think we should just have hors-d’oeuvres. Nothing too heavy.”

“Yeah, snobby rich people prefer tiny portions anyway,” Steve agreed.

“What about music?” You wondered.

“We should do something classy… like hire a pianist or something.”

You snapped your finger. “Steve, that’s perfect. It will make the evening seem really elegant. The fancier we make the guests feel, the more money they’re going to be willing to spend.”

Steve reached his hand across the worktable and rested it atop yours. “Thanks again for doing this with me. I’ve really appreciated all your help.”

You boldly intertwined your fingers with his. “It’s been no problem, really. I’ve actually had a lot of fun.”

He didn’t pull his hand away. “Sure you don’t want to change career paths and become a professional event planner?”

“Not a chance in hell. Event planning is far too stressful for me.”

“More stressful than being an Avenger? And I thought you just said it had been fun.”

You looked away from him but tightened your grasp on his fingers. “It has been, but only because I’m doing it with you.” When you finally met his eye again, he was giving you a strange look: one that said he was strongly contemplating what he might say next. You wondered what he might be holding back from you.

“Steve?” you nearly whispered.

“Yeah?” he said back in a hushed tone.

“Do you like your life now? Like compared to when you were on the team?”

You figured he would need a moment to form an answer, but he replied almost instantly. “I love my life now. I very rarely miss being Captain America, and when I do, it’s more about missing the days when Tony and Nat and Vision were still around. I never miss being the other me.”

You squeezed his hand again. “That’s good Steve. I’m really happy that you’re happy.”

He squeezed your hand right back. “I’m really happy to have someone like you in my life, Y/N.”

You thought this must be it. Bucky must have been right: Steve does like you. You were staring into his eyes, waiting patiently for him to say the words, for him to actually ask you out. You were disappointed once again, though, because Steve only looked back down at his pizza and said, “I really need to start writing my speech for the auction.”

You pulled your hand away from his and placed it back in your lap. “Right. I can help you if you want.”

“Great. Thanks, Y/N.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so close to having 100 followers on Tumblr, and I'm taking one-shot requests to celebrate. Go follow me over there under the same username: PanicFOB. Also, please don't hate me after you read this chapter :D

Steve carefully draped the large cloth over the sculpture. It was to be part of a grand unveiling tonight, the most eye-catching piece in the room. Nobody had seen it apart from Steve, not even Y/N. It was a giant stone carving of Mjolnir. Steve had tried to make it true to size so that the buyer could have a fun time actually picking up the mythical hammer.

Nearly everything was ready for the night. The event floor of the tower had been professionally decorated earlier that morning. Large vases of vibrant flowers sat at each of the guest tables. There was a stage toward one end of the hall, which was where Steve would be giving his speech and then the auctioneer would bid off each piece of artwork. Before they got to all that, though, the guests were meant to snack on hors-d’oeuvres and champagne and mingle. Steve had even arranged a dance floor and made sure that the pianist could play faster tunes as well just to liven up the party.

All that was left for Steve to do was get into his tuxedo and gel his hair down a bit. This would be the first time he ever wore a tux in this body. He certainly hadn’t had any need to wear a tux back in the 40s, and all the fancy Stark events had happened when he’d been Captain America. Even more nerve-wracking was the fact that many of the guests still had no idea that Steve had taken a reverse serum. They were sure to be completely surprised when he arrived at the party.

And then there was Y/N. Steve had finally decided what to do about her. After months and months of pining, he was finally going to make his move tonight. When a nice, romantic song played, he was going to ask her to dance. Once he had her held close against him and they were swaying to the nice music, he’d ask her out on a date, and Steve hoped to god she’d say yes. Otherwise, things were going to get really awkward around the tower.

He re-tied his bow tie four times before he was satisfied. His hands were shaking, he didn’t know if he’d be able to make it through the night. Just as he was sweeping the longer hairs at the top of his head to the side, a knock came at his bedroom door.

“Steve, are you ready? The guests are arriving now,” came Y/N’s muffled voice through the door.

He rushed over and opened it, his jaw nearly dropping to the floor when he got a look at her in her dress. It was sleek and black and incredible looking on her. Tell her she looks beautiful. Tell her she looks beautiful.

“You look… nice.” Wow, Steve. Way to make a woman feel special.

“Um, thank you. You look… nice as well.”

They awkwardly made their way down to the event floor, and Steve cursed himself. There was rarely any sort of uncomfortable silence between him and Y/N when they were together, but he was letting his anxiety for the night get the best of him. Before he could think of a single topic of conversation, they had arrived and Steve was being pulled away by the auctioneer. He noticed Y/N walking toward the pianist out of the corner of his eye. He supposed their dance would have to wait until later.

This was the first time Steve had ever been a host, and he had grossly underestimated how much work it would be on the night of. When Tony had thrown all his rich people parties, all Steve had done was wear a tux and show up. He had assumed that once all the planning was done for tonight, he could enjoy the festivities just like any other guest. He had been so very wrong. Problems kept arising, and people kept needing his input on things. Before he knew it, an hour had passed, he still hadn’t found Y/N again, and he was set to be giving his speech very soon.

He spotted Bucky just before he went on stage. His friend gave him a supportive clap on the shoulder. “You’ll do fine, Steve. You’ve always been good with words. You’ll have all these rich people like putty in your hand just desperate to spend every last dime on your art for charity.”

Steve snorted at the absurdity of his friend’s statement. He had never ever considered himself to be good with words, so he’d really like to know exactly which moments Bucky was thinking of.

“By the way,” Bucky said to him just as Steve was climbing the steps to the stage, “I saw the portrait of me you’re auctioning, and I’m officially mad at you once again.”

“Not my fault the only time you’re not grimacing is when you’re asleep,” Steve snickered and ran up the stage before Bucky could kick his ass.

His speech wasn’t very long. He gave brief explanations of each the charities that would be benefitting from the auction. He quickly told a short version of how he got into art and made sure to mention that it was all of his friends, the Avengers, were who really inspired him to create each of his pieces. The auction swiftly began, and each portrait, pottery piece, and wood carving sold for far more than Steve ever expected them to. When he unveiled the Mjolnir sculpture, the crowd lit up with ‘oohs’ and ‘aahs,’ and some guy ended up paying thirty thousand dollars for it alone. Steve asked the man to come to the stage and ceremoniously lift it to conclude the auction. There were professional photographers that Steve had invited to capture this moment, and he was sure it would be all over the news by the next morning.

Once the hall went back to conversing, snacking, and dancing, there were dozens of guests vying for a moment to speak with Steve. They had hundreds of questions about how he had become small again, most of which were incredibly uncomfortable to answer, but he didn’t want to be rude and ignore them after they had spent so much money on his artwork. He was getting very frustrated, though, because all he wanted to do was see Y/N again in that lovely dress and whisk her across the dance floor.

Late into the evening, guests finally started to leave with their auction prizes, and after Steve had said enough cordial goodbyes to give him a headache, he looked around for Y/N, still hoping to get that dance. However, when he spotted her, his hope plummeted. She was at the corner of the dance floor with Bucky’s arms around her. They were dancing together to a faster-paced song, and Bucky was twirling and dipping her expertly. They both wore large smiles and Steve even noticed them laughing quite a bit. It felt like he was observing a very intimate moment, and he realized he had been wrong about Y/N’s feelings toward him after all.

Of course, the woman would want to be with someone that shared her lifestyle. How could a weakling artist ever provide a happy and satisfying life for a badass spy that worked for the Avengers? Clearly, she was more suited to someone like Bucky. Steve ducked out of the event hall and made the trek up to his room alone.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bare with me. One or two more angsty chapters, and then it will be smooth-sailing :)

It had all become so clear to him.

Steve thought back to all the times he had witnessed her and Bucky together, making effortless conversation, teasing each other, so clearly flirting, and Steve had been a fool not to see it. He stared down at the portrait of Y/N and Buck he had kept back from the auction. At the time, Steve had thought it was a brilliant moment that he had shared with her, but now he realized the moment had actually been hers and Bucky’s all along. He wasn’t mad at his best pal, for he’d never gotten around to mentioning how he felt about her to Bucky anyway. And if Bucky had won Y/N over with his good heart and his skilled charms, then Steve supposed he deserved her.

He didn’t get out of bed for a very long time that next morning. Then, when he did get out of bed, he collected the portrait, folded it up into his pocket, and took off to Central Park. He planned to spend the entire day away from the tower. He couldn’t help but feel absolutely miserable every time his mind drifted to what Y/N and Bucky had gotten up to all night after that dance.

Now, he sat at a park bench shaded by some large trees and watched ducks waddle by on their way to a pond. He looked down at the portrait once again. He closed his eyes and sighed heavily, and then he began ripping it apart. Bucky and Y/N were his two favorite people in the world, but god, Steve was at a loss of how to feel about them together. Once he had torn the portrait down to a hundred small pieces, he walked over to a trash can and tossed them away.

His next stop was a café. It was afternoon and he hadn’t eaten a single thing today. There was a nice little place he had visited before that was situated right next to his favorite bookstore. He ordered a sandwich and an extra-strong coffee in the hopes that it would make him feel less mopey and groggy. Steve took his lunch back to the park, and he sat next to the pond, tearing off little morsels of his sandwich for the ducks. He observed many couples walking by, and they all seemed to be confirming what Steve had been reluctantly thinking: he was not well matched for a woman like Y/N, at least not like this. Any women that were the least bit muscular and fit were paired up with tall, broad-shouldered men. Any men that were close to Steve’s current size had managed to find a woman even tinier than themselves.

It didn’t matter that Steve had initially thought Y/N could love him as an artist rather than a hero. It was clear that in this society, it would still be strange for them to be together. Steve tried imagining them walking around this park hand-in-hand, but he couldn’t even picture it; it was that unrealistic.

He considered his options. He could tell Bucky how he felt about the woman and hope that his friend would back off, but that would make Y/N really unhappy, and Steve never wanted that. He could go on without saying a word and try to be happy for them, but this option presented a very bleak and dreary future in Steve’s head. He could try even harder to win her affection as he is, but they had been spending time together for so many months, and if she didn’t find him attractive like this by now, she was never going to. Finally, Steve squared his jaw as he acknowledged the last option. It was one he had never wanted or planned on doing before, but Steve would do it now if it meant she could be happy with him.

“Steve, I really think you should take some more time to think about this.”

“What’s the big deal, Bruce? You said it yourself: it’s easily reversible either way.”

“But I don’t think it’s wise to put your body through that much stress multiple times.”

“It’ll only be this one last time. I’m sticking with it.”

“Why though? You’ve seemed so happy these past few months. I didn’t think you had any intention of rejoining the team.”

“It’s… it’s complicated.” Steve wasn’t very good at lying, so he thought back to what he had been feeling the first time he became Cap. “I want to have a purpose again. I can’t stand back and let people get away with evil any longer.”

“Is your art and your friends not purpose enough? And nobody is getting away with anything. We’ve got a full team of Avengers who a hundred percent want to be there and don’t go in and out of retirement every few months. What about Sam, huh? You just gonna take the shield back from him?”

“Of course not. I won’t be Cap again. I’ll just be a regular Avengers super-soldier operative.”

“Steve, I just have to say, I think you’re making a big mistake here. You’re gonna confuse a lot of people. The general public literally just found out that you had reversed the serum in the first place. Now, the next day you’re a super-soldier again? It just makes the Avengers seem like we’re constantly fooling around and doing dangerous experiments that we shouldn’t.”

“Look, I’ll stay in the tower when I’m not on missions, that way the public won’t find out that I switched back. And when I’m working with the team, I’ll wear a stealth suit and mask so that any criminals or civilians won’t realize it’s the former Captain America.”

Bruce tried one last plea to get him to change his mind. “Is this because of something that happened at the auction last night? Did one of the guests say something bad to you about you being back in your normal form?”

Steve’s mind instantly did a dark flicker to the memory of Bucky and Y/N dancing. “No, nothing happened at the auction This is just something I want to do, Bruce. Something I have to do.”

The man gave a long, defeated sigh. “Okay.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just wanted to say a huge thanks to all my readers. I love you guys, and your responses to the last chapter were absolutely golden. Only five chapters left after this :)
> 
> Also, I'm going to be posting a fuck-ton of one-shots over the next week or two because I took requests over on Tumblr and am now filling all those requests. You might have seen the ones I posted yesterday and another one again today. Just wanted to mention that if you really enjoy one-shots, you're in store for a real treat on the daily.

You’d been looking for Steve most of the day yesterday. He had disappeared the night of the auction before you could even get a chance to congratulate him on how well it went. Then, you’d gotten up early yesterday for training, and the minute it had been over, you headed to Steve’s studio. To you surprise, it had been empty. You stopped by his quarters and knocked on the door, but nobody answered.

At this point, you hunted down Bucky and Sam and asked them if they had seen Steve after they left training. They hadn’t, to your growing dismay. You supposed he could be out for a run at Central Park, but he usually did that in the mornings, not in the sunny afternoon. You weren’t sure why it bothered you so much to not be able to find him. Maybe it was because for over six months now, you had just always known where Steve was and what he was up to for most of the day.

By that night, when you still hadn’t heard from him or seen him, you began to worry that he was avoiding you for some reason. On the other hand, you couldn’t think of a single reason why that might be the case. You turned into bed feeling unexplainably anxious and restless.

This morning, you awoke to a group message from Steve to everyone in the tower saying that he was calling a team meeting for nine o’clock. That was in fifteen minutes. You jumped out of bed and threw some clothes on as you scrolled through all the messages from the team asking Steve what the meeting was about. He hadn’t replied to any of them. Your worry grew.

In the time that you had been a trainee, Steve had never once called a meeting, considering he wasn’t actually on the team anymore. You knew there must have been something really important going on for this to occur. You made it to the conference room with two minutes to spare. Everyone had beaten you there except for Bruce and Steve. You flopped down in a chair next to Bucky and gave him a confused look. “Do you know what this is about?”

“No idea, but knowing Steve, it’s gonna be something over dramatic that’s gonna piss all of us off.”

That comment didn’t help the unsettled feeling in your stomach.

The door opened and all the chatter around the table fell silent. Bruce walked in, and then Steve followed… but he wasn’t your Steve. He was a Steve you didn’t know, a Steve you had never met.

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Bucky grumbled from next to you.

“Steve,” Sam said, “please tell me what the hell is going on.”

“I’d like to rejoin the team if that’s all right with you guys.”

You felt numb. Your brain wasn’t processing his words right because all you could think about was how abnormally tall he was and how awkward he looked standing there with hulking muscles. You thought back to two weeks ago when he had explained to you that he never missed being Cap, and you wondered how he had gotten from that headspace to this big decision so quickly.

“Don’t worry, Sam. You’ll still be Captain America. I just want to join the team as a regular agent.” His voice was the same. His hair was the same. You could still spot the calluses on his hands from sketching… but this man was a stark contrast to the one you had gotten quite close to and fallen in love with. He stood with his chest puffed out and his jaw tense and raised. He looked arrogant, and it made an intense feeling of disgust wash over you.

The team had a plethora of questions for Steve about why he had come to this decision, but you remained quiet the entire time, barely listening to his answers. You didn’t care how it had happened, you cared that it did. And you absolutely hated it.

You emerged from your internal thoughts when Sam suddenly stood up and gave Steve a big hug. “We’re glad to have you back, man. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“Thank you, Sam.” Steve finally met your eye over Sam’s shoulder and you hastily turned away. They were the same eyes, but you didn’t feel like you understood the soul behind them any longer.

People began leaving the conference room, and you tried to sneak around Steve, but he caught your arm. God, his hand was massive now. You cringed at his touch. “Can I talk to you?” he asked.

You curtly nodded your head considering he wasn’t giving you much of a choice.

You stood there awkwardly waiting for the rest of the team to leave, and when they did, Steve closed the door. “You were really quiet back there. I guess I was just wondering where your head’s at about all this.”

You closed your eyes and sighed heavily. “Steve, I just… why?”

“What do you mean? I wanted to be back on the team. I told you that already.”

“No, you didn’t. Not two weeks ago, at least. Just tell me what’s really going on.”

Steve looked away from you. You knew he was lying as he said, “It’s the truth. I just wanted to be a part of the Avengers again,” because he couldn’t even meet your eye and he was fiddling nervously with his hands.

“I don’t feel like listening to your bullshit, Steve. So when you’re ready to tell me what the actual fuck is going on, just let me know.”

You stormed out of the conference room before he could stop you.

As your eyes burned and tears stained your cheeks, you found Bucky in the weapons range once again.

“This fucking sucks,” you said to him as you grabbed a shotgun.

“Yup,” he agreed.

“I thought you said that Steve is the best person you’ve ever met.”

Bucky fired a slew of shots at the target. “Never said he wasn’t a dumbass though.”

“Do you have any idea why he’s gone and done this?” you asked him, figuring Bucky knew Steve better than anyone.

“Nope. Like I mentioned earlier though, probably something that he’s being overdramatic about.”

“It’s just frustrating because if he really, genuinely wanted to be this way again, I wouldn’t have any problem with it. But I know Steve, and I know he’s done this because he feels like he has to for some reason, not because he actually wants to.”

“I got the same feeling, yeah. Maybe you should just tell him that.”

“He’ll just lie straight to my fucking face again. I honestly don’t think I can even speak to him until he starts acting like the Steve I know and love again.”

“So you are in love with him,” Bucky noted with a smirk.

You made an annoyed face. “Not the point right now, Sarge.”


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm an idiot and accidentally added this chapter to my other fic. Took me a while to realize lol. Anyway, I hope this one eases your aching hearts a bit. Much love x

This was the first time you had ever been to Bruce’s lab. He was pouring strange liquids in beakers, and you couldn’t possibly imagine what sort of experiment he was up to.

“Can you tell me exactly what he said to you?”

You clearly weren’t going to get a straight answer from Steve, so you decided to do some investigating.

“Pretty much the same thing he told all of you in the conference room. He wants to be on the team. He’s sure about his decision.”

“It just doesn’t make any sense…” you muttered to yourself.

“It did seem like he was upset about something that he wasn’t telling me.”

“Then why’d you let him go through with it?”

“Because it’s his life, his decision. Not to mention, it’s easily reversible when he ends up wanting to change again.”

“You think he will?”

“Almost certain.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He hadn’t thought it through properly. It’s only a matter of time before he regrets his choice.”

You nodded your head in agreement and stood from your seat. “Thanks, Bruce.”

The first mission you had to go on with Steve present was an absolute nightmare. The dynamic was confusing because Steve clearly didn’t know how to fall back and let someone else be the leader. Not to mention, the man was only half focused the entire time, constantly trying to have whispered conversations with you when he thought the others couldn’t hear.

“Y/N, I don’t understand why you’re so upset with me over this. I thought you’d be happy for me if I’m doing something that I want to do.”

You scoffed darkly. “You’re terrible at lying Steve. Like I said, don’t want to hear your bullshit.”

“I’m not lying. I just want to be a part of this again. I’m sick of being left behind… by Bucky and Sam… and you.”

A feeling other than anger finally flickered toward him at those words.

“Just explain it to me, Steve. If you’re not lying now, then you must have been lying when you said you never missed being Cap.”

He huffed and looked away, unable to answer.

“That’s what I thought.”

It had been two weeks since Steve’s rejoining of the team. Two weeks since you had been avoiding him as much as possible and ignoring most of his efforts to speak to you. You would have gladly talked to him if he ever had anything new to say, but it was always the same garbage about him just wanting to be on the team, and every time those words came out of his mouth, bile rose in your throat. The main focus of your life since high school had been to become an excellent spy; if there was one thing you were good at, it was distinguishing between a lie and the truth.

You had wandered up to Steve’s studio a few times… just to see if he’d be there. To no surprise, it hadn’t been put to any use since he had become a super-soldier again. Steve hadn’t only stopped looking like himself, he’d stopped being himself as well. You felt sad for the studio, having been abandoned by its owner without a proper explanation. You walked over to the blank canvas that Steve had never got around to painting. You traced your fingers across the bare expanse and thought how unfortunate it was for someone so stubborn and determined to suddenly give up on something that they had been so ambitious to achieve.

You poured out some red paint and picked up a brush. In large, bold print, you painted, “I love you.” It was silly, but therapeutic. You knew Steve would never see it. He clearly hadn’t stepped foot in this place in two weeks, and you doubted he ever would again. That arrogant man was more concerned about his muscles than he was about the joy of artistry.

It had been an entire month since Steve’s change when things finally came to a boiling point. You were approaching your favorite place in the compound, the weapons range, when you overheard the raised voices of Steve and Bucky.

“I don’t fucking understand what her problem is!” Steve was saying.

So, this was about you. You had no moral hesitation about eavesdropping.

“Steve, you got yourself into this. Now you wanna go throwing temper tantrums because you for some stupid reason thought Y/N would be impressed seeing you like this, but in reality, she’s disgusted by how you’ve been acting.”

“How I’ve been acting?! I haven’t done anything but try to answer her questions and continue to be her friend. She just accuses me of lying and gives me the cold shoulder.”

You heard Bucky’s pointed sigh. “Stevie, I really don’t know what you want me to say here. I can’t take your side in this.”

“Well, of course you wouldn’t. That makes perfect sense.”

“What does that mean?”

“With the little fling you have going on with Y/N, obviously you would take her side.”

Y/N heard a loud bang, clearly Bucky tossing his gun down angrily. You couldn’t blame him. Steve must have been on some hallucinogens if he really thought you and Bucky were dating.

“Fling? What the fuck are you talking about, Steve?”

“You two are always flirting, always acting all touchy feely, and I saw you the night of the auction dancing together.”

“So, we’re good friends, and you saw us dancing not fucking. I knew this was about some overdramatic typical Steve bullshit.”

“You don’t have to spare my feelings, Buck. I know you and Y/N are together.”

“We’re not! And you’re a fucking idiot if you haven’t realized yet that she’s in—”

You stepped into the room and interrupted him. “I think I’ll take it from here, Sarge. Could you give Steve and me some privacy?”

As soon as Bucky was gone, Steve reeled on you, “Oh now you want to talk?!”

“Steve, please tell me that you did not do all this because you thought I was dating Bucky and instead of just asking me about it, you took the serum again because you thought that would somehow make things better.”

His face was red in both embarrassment and anger. “Okay, fine! That’s part of it, yeah! But it’s really insulting to me that you act like I’m so fucking vile this way. Like I thought you would actually be attracted to me if I look like this, but you avoid me like I have the plague!”

“Steve, if you had become this way because it was who you truly are and it truly made you happy, then I would be fine with it and you know that. You’re not happy, though. You’re doing this to impress me, and I can promise you it’s not working.”

“So, that’s it, huh? No matter what I do, you’re never gonna love me?”

“Is that what you think? Steve, I’ve been in love with you for so fucking long. God, you’re incredibly dense. But I’m not in love with this version of you. I fell for the artist that was determined to become good at painting. I fell in love with the guy that drew lovely portraits of me and gave them to me to make me feel better when I was having a bad day. I fell in love with the guy who wasn’t embarrassed to work out in front of a bunch of fit superheroes, despite being smaller than all of them. I fell in love with the real you, and you should have realized that you never had to change anything in order to be with me. All you had to do was ask, and my answer would have been yes every single time.”

When you looked into Steve’s eyes, they were filled with guilt and regret, and also hope. “I’m so sorry. I fucked everything up, didn’t I?” He took a step toward you, but you backed away.

“I just… I need some time, Steve. Give me a day.” You walked away from him once again.


	17. Chapter 17

A day, she’d said. And Steve was trying his damnedest to give it to her. But his mind kept flashing back to when she had admitted to being in love with him, and Steve wanted to do nothing more than ask her to repeat it a million times. He honestly couldn’t believe it, that she could even be attracted to the smaller version of him, much less madly in love with him. When he had been building up the courage to ask her out on a date, he had expected to have to win her over, not that she would already be completely won over without him even trying.

Steve really couldn’t believe that a woman so lovely and smart and curious and fun and tough had fallen for him. He wasn’t going to complain about it, though. Despite her being frustrated at his admittedly very stupid actions, the “I love you” that came out of her mouth had been the most beautiful sound Steve had ever heard. He wanted to go to her now, only five hours since their fight, but he knew she’d just get more irritated at him for not giving her the space she asked for.

It was eleven o’clock at night, and Steve decided to check out the state of his studio for the first time in a month. He flicked on the lights, glanced around at the thin layer of dust coating most of his work tables, and then spotted the canvas that had been vandalized with the exact beautiful words that Steve was craving to hear right now. Y/N must have been coming here when she was angry with him for doing this to himself. God, he was such an idiot to not realize it sooner. They had been so happy together all the time until he had fucked it up that day after the auction. Steve’s dumbass had gone on for a month like this, being miserable because he was too arrogant to admit that Y/N would never just swoon over him in his super-soldier form.

He pulled the canvas off its stand and placed it inside a closet where Steve had stored his larger pieces of artwork. He rolled up the sleeves of his blue plaid shirt, grabbed some cleaning supplies from a utility closet and began fixing up his neglected art studio. Steve had FRIDAY play his favorite playlist, the one that Y/N had made for him and he usually worked out to, and he scrubbed his tables and art supplies throughout the night. It was a type of therapy that Steve had desperately needed in order to properly get his head on straight. It felt like coming home.

At around six in the morning, he left the tower for a run at Central Park. He made sure to wear a ball cap low over his face in the hopes that nobody would recognize him in his Cap form. He noticed how useless it felt to exercise as a super-soldier. His muscles hardly strained, and no matter how fast he ran, he never got out of breath. It didn’t feel like he was working toward anything, and he never got the gratification of making incremental progress in his workouts. After six boring laps, he decided to return to the tower and figure out some other way to kill time.

Sam was in the kitchen making omelets, and Steve quickly jumped in to help, desperate for any way to keep his mind busy.

“Something smells amazing, Sam,” Y/N said as she came through the doorway, but she stopped in her tracks when she noticed Steve in the room as well.

“Hi,” he addressed her nervously.

“Hi, Steve,” she awkwardly replied before sitting at one of the barstools.

Sam could clearly sense the tension in the room because as soon as the food was done cooking, he made his plate and bolted from the kitchen with a quick “I’m out.”

Steve remained across the counter from her, eating while standing up. He finally cleared his throat and tried to break the ice. “I wanted to say that you were absolutely right about everything yesterday. I’ve been an idiot and an asshole. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I just let my feelings for you muddle my senses and rationality. I know I hurt you by making assumptions and being overdramatic and pretending to be someone I’m not, but I’m a hundred percent done with all that now.”

“And what exactly are those feelings for me that muddled your brain?”

“I’m in love with you.”

She looked down and played with the barely eaten omelet on her plate. “Why didn’t you just tell me, Steve? Or ask me out? Or grab me and kiss me?”

“Because I still clearly needed to work on my self-esteem. When I reversed the serum, I was so sure that I was comfortable in my own skin, but when you came along, I felt certain you would never want me like that. Not to mention, you love your career, and I want to have a family. Is it realistic for us to try to make something work? It always seemed so far-fetched to me.”

“Women are capable of having both a career and a family, Steve. This isn’t the 1940s.”

He flushed in embarrassment. “You’re right, of course. I guess I assumed that wouldn’t be something you would want to balance though.”

“Well, assuming always makes you an ass, so maybe get out of that habit. And what about your self-esteem now? What’s changed? How do I know you wouldn’t show up to each of our dates as a different guy?”

“I guess there’s no way for you to know for certain, but I can promise you that I’ve been completely unhappy being on the team again, and this is a mistake I never want to revisit. I miss being an artist and a normal guy. I miss being your best friend and getting infinitely closer to you. I can’t imagine myself ever having the desire to be this unnecessarily beefed-up version of myself ever again.”

“That’s good, Steve. I believe you.”

He gave her a shy smile. “That reminds me, I need to make a trip down to Bruce’s lab. Would you want to accompany me?”

Her grin lit up the room, and Steve realized it was the first time he had seen it in a month. He vowed to never make her so unhappy again. It would be his number one purpose in life.

They trekked to Bruce’s lab with their hands intertwined, and she never let go as the man gave Steve the injection. She watched him lovingly as he felt the pinpricks and the odd sensations. The second Steve realized the process was complete, Y/N’s lips were sealed to his in a long-overdue but incredibly tender kiss.

He vaguely heard Bruce awkwardly mumbling “I’ll just give you two a moment alone” in the background.


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only two more chapters after this! Eeeeeeeep, I can't believe this story is over. Have no fear, though, because I can guarantee at least 3 post story drabbles for this fic! Look out for those at some point in the future :)

Steve wasn’t sure why they were doing this in his studio rather than in his bedroom, but he wasn’t about to complain. Right after his transformation, he suggested they come up here so that he could show Y/N all the cleaning and organizing he had done. She’d been amazed by the sparkling state of the studio, and then she had bashfully asked him what he’d done with the canvas she’d vandalized. He told her he had tucked it away for safekeeping.

Her hands had been glued to him in some form or another since they had walked down to Bruce’s lab together, her soft fingers sliding in between his calloused ones. Now, those hands were pushing on his chest as her lips and tongue did wondrous things to Steve’s mouth. The back of his legs brushed up against a workbench, and she playfully pushed him to sit down. When both their shirts disappeared, Steve hastily asked FRIDAY to lock the studio door, knowing his friends had a tendency to barge in at the absolute worst times.

“Sure you don’t want to do this in a bedroom, doll?”

The passion in her eyes only intensified at the new pet name. “This is my favorite room in the tower. I’d like it to be here.”

And with her hand moving so skillfully over Steve’s groin, he really had no desire to object to the location setting any longer.

An hour later, they lay on top of Steve’s worktable with a paint-drip tarp draped over their naked bodies.

“There is so much paint in your hair,” Steve informed her while grinning like a madman. He couldn’t remember ever being this happy before in his entire life.

“Suppose I should wash that out before we see the others, or they might know what we’ve been up to,” she joked.

“Considering Bruce is the biggest gossip in the tower these days, I’m assuming they already know.”

She snorted and leaned over to give Steve a kiss on the cheek.

“How many weeks of training do you have left?” he asked her as she traced his stomach with her fingers.

“Only two. I honestly can’t believe how fast time has flown by.”

“Are you moving back out of the tower once you’re allowed?” Steve wondered, feeling a bit worried about her answer.

“You do know I’ve been homeless since the snap, right? Obviously, I’m not moving back into my friend’s spare bedroom, Steve. Besides, if I moved out, it would make it really hard for me to spend all my free time with you.”

The nerves in his stomach eased. “Just checking.”

A banging on the studio door startled them both, and it was one that could only come from a metal fist.

“Steve, you in there?!”

They both climbed off the table and quickly put their clothes back on.

“Steve?! I just hear the craziest thing from Bruce, and I want to know if it’s true,” Bucky shouted again.

“Has he always been this damn nosy?” Steve complained.

“That’s why we get along so well,” Y/N confirmed. She walked over to the door still looking flushed and disheveled with the streaks of paint in her wild hair. She flung it open and said, “It’s true.”

Bucky raised one eyebrow, looking quite amused. “Did you guys… in here…?” He then spotted Steve still standing by the worktable that they had just christened. “Nice, Stevie. Didn’t know you had it in ya.”

Steve simply rolled his eyes. “Give it a rest, Buck. And did you need something, or were you only here to stick your nose in other people’s business?”

He strutted into the studio, taking a seat on the aforementioned worktable. “The latter mostly.”

“You might not want to sit there,” Y/N informed him with evil delight.

He jumped up with a disgusted face. “Oh gross! It’s never gonna be safe in here again, now that you two can’t keep your hands off each other.”

She and Steve both shrugged, taking joy in Bucky’s displeasure.

“I was also looking for you, Y/N, to tell you that we have a mission tonight, and it could be a long one.”

She groaned very dramatically in opposition.

Bucky turned to Steve. “Looks like Sam and I will have to rework the plans a bit, now that you’ve finally got yourself sorted out.”

“I’m sorry, Buck. I didn’t mean to be an inconvenience.”

Bucky waved away his apology. “It’s totally fine, Stevie. I prefer you happy rather than miserable, and the team can get along just fine without you. We’ve been needing some new flattering portraits of ourselves to stroke our egos anyhow.”

Steve chuckled. “I’ll get right on that.”

Bucky walked toward the studio exit. “Mission briefing in ten minutes, Y/N.”

“Got it, Sarge,” she said before he left.

Steve came over to her and wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, placing a sweet kiss on her lips to ease some of her dread over the long night ahead.

“Doesn’t look like we’ll be getting to spend the night together,” she grumbled as she slid her hands over his shoulders and clasped them behind his neck.

“Hey, it’s okay. I need to get some drawing and sculpting done anyway. Got to rebuild my inventory for the next charity auction. But, I’ll be waiting for you when you get back. You can always stop by my room, no matter how late it is.”

A soft smile fell across her face. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

At nine o’clock that night, Steve made his way up to the jet takeoff and landing pad, hoping to see Y/N off and wish her luck on the mission. Not that she really needed it; despite her still technically being a trainee, she was now just as skilled as every other member on the team. He found them all loading up equipment into the jet. She was wearing a very flattering combat, stealth suit, and Steve thought back to all the missions he nearly botched over the past month because he could never focus when she was next to him looking like that. It was definitely better that they weren’t both on the team anymore.

When she spotted him standing there, she jogged over and immediately pulled him in for a kiss.

“Be careful, okay?” he made her promise.

“Always. I’ll come and find you the second we get back. Try not to worry too much, Steve.”

He heard the teasing calls and whistles from the other team members as they shared their loving embrace. Steve didn’t care; he thought it felt rather nice to be on the reverse end of this situation, not having to be the one leaving and promising to do everything in his power to come back. Y/N was strong and brave and smart, and she had a great team looking out for her. Steve knew he’d see her by morning time knocking at the door to his quarters.


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one chapter left after this! I hope you're still enjoying it :)

“You pick the food, and I’ll plan the rest,” Steve told you as he peppered kisses across your bare back and shoulders. It had been three days since that wild entanglement in his studio, and you finally had enough free time to go on a proper date.

“I can pick anything I want for dinner?” your voice was slightly muffled by the pillow your head was resting on. You were cuddled in Steve’s bed in the early hours of the morning, brainstorming a perfect first date to share between the two of you.

“Anything you want, doll. You know I’m not picky, and I want to make you happy.” His soft lips tickled your shoulder blades.

“I have been craving Thai food lately, and I know of a really good place that I don’t think you’ve been to before.”

He stopped his onslaught of sweet kisses. “How would you know?”

“Because it’s not within walking distance of Central Park, and that’s the only place you ever go when you leave the tower.”

He flopped down on his back beside you. “Fair point. And Thai food sounds fantastic.”

“What are you thinking about doing after dinner?”

“A movie perhaps.”

“A movie sounds nice.”

“Maybe two movies.”

“Two movies? You planning to sneak in for an extra show. I’m so disappointed in you Steve Rogers.”

“The theater I’m thinking of plays movies back to back. You’re supposed to stay for more than one.”

You simply eyed him suspiciously, having no idea what he was talking about. You kissed the mischievous smirk from his lips. “What do you suppose we do all day until dinner time?”

“I can think of a few ideas,” he said in a sultry tone.

When the sun was shining brightly enough through Steve’s bedroom window for you to realize it was noon, your stomach let out a loud rumble. You flushed in embarrassment, and Steve chuckled before pecking you on the nose and telling you to wait here while he grabbed something for lunch. He threw on some sweats and was out the door.

This was the first time you had been in Steve’s quarters alone. Six months ago you might have snooped through all his belongings, but today you remained relaxed and uncurious on the bed. If you loved someone the way you loved Steve, you trusted them to show you the true colors of their soul in their own time without you having to go looking for it uninvited. You were sure Steve hadn’t divulged everything about himself to you just yet, but you thought it might be nice to learn it all slowly. A secret per day over the rest of your lives.

He returned with a plate of sandwiches and chips. You sat up as he climbed onto the bed, and you shared the food between the two of you with contented smiles. Once the plate was empty, Steve stood to set it on his desk, and then he grabbed his pencil and sketchpad. Your torso was already exposed from the sheet falling down, but when you lay back, Steve pulled the sheet the rest of the way off you. “Can I draw you like this?” he asked, sounding a bit nervous.

“Steve… I don’t know. What if—”

“I promise nobody else will ever see it. My eyes only.”

You trusted him fully, so you nodded your head. He sat back in his desk chair, opened the sketchpad, and got straight to work. You closed your eyes to feel less uncomfortable about him studying you this way. Before long, you had accidentally drifted off to sleep.

“Y/N,” Steve said as he gently shook you awake. “You’ve gotta get dressed or we’re gonna miss dinner, doll.”

You bolted up out of the bed. “How long did you let me sleep?”

He shrugged. “A few hours, I think.”

You pulled on your underwear and pants, glancing over at his desk in hopes of seeing the drawing he’d done, but his sketchbook was closed. “Did you finish it?”

“Not quite,” he said vaguely.

You pulled your T-Shirt over your head. “I’m gonna head back to my quarters and put on something fresh. I’ll see you in about thirty minutes?”

“Perfect.”

You sprinted to your room to throw on your nicest pair of black skinny jeans and a flowy blouse that you hardly ever wore. Your hair was the main problem and would take up most of the little time you had to get ready. Spending all day in bed had caused it to be a frizzy, tangled mess. You sprayed it with some product and combed through it carefully. After fifteen minutes of this process, you pulled the front part out of your face with a clip and figured you couldn’t do much better than that. You quickly dabbed some makeup over your tired-looking eyes. Steve had let you over-nap, and now you felt more groggy than ever.

The knock at your door let you know that time was up.

You had been correct about Steve not having been to this Thai place before. His eyes widened in delight when he tried your favorite spring rolls. “These are amazing. I’ve never tasted ones this good before.”

“I told you this place is amazing.”

You ordered Sweet and Sour stir-fry with a very high spice level, and Steve did the same because he trusted you to know the best thing to order here. You chatted lovingly over steamed rice and flavorful meats and vegetables.

When you left the restaurant, you had a short walk back to Steve’s car, but something caught your attention on the way, and you stopped dead in your tracks. “Oh Steve, can we please?!”

He spotted the sign you were pointing at that read, “Tarot card readings.”

“You believe in that stuff?” he asked sounding a bit surprised.

“Not really, but it would still be really fun.”

He checked his watch. “We’ll miss the beginning of the first movie.”

“I thought you said they were showing two. Come on, Steve. You afraid she’s gonna foresee your imminent death or something?”

He scratched the back of his head. “Uh, yeah, a little.”

You snorted and grabbed his hand, dragging him toward the fortune-telling shop. “It will be fine. Just relax.”

The eccentrically dressed woman greeted you kindly when you entered the shop. She directed you both to a table, and then she pulled out a deck of tarot cards.

“I can do a general reading, you can pick a specific topic, or you can ask a specific question. Whichever you prefer,” the woman informed you.

You looked at Steve with a playful sparkle in your eye. “Hmm, this is our first date, so I’d like to know the future of our relationship.”

Steve leaned back in his chair with a groan. “Do we really have to?”

“Got some dark secrets your hiding, Steve?” you teased him.

The woman spread the cards out face down on the table and had you draw five. You did so and flipped them over one by one. While examining the cards, she told some extravagant story about marriage and two children. She said the biggest hardships were over, and that a long life of happiness was in store for you together. Steve kept scoffing and looking absolutely skeptical, but when she began giving analogies comparing your relationship to an elaborate painting, his eyebrows pinched together, looking quite perplexed.

Steve brought you to a drive-in theater, and you suddenly understood what he’d meant about them playing multiple movies in a row. “It’s a fifty-year celebration for a few films tonight.”

The Godfather: Part II looked half-way over on the screen.

“What are they showing after this?”

“The Great Gatsby, I believe.”

He found a place to park and shut off the car. You climbed over to the driver’s seat and snuggled into his side. Content to cuddle in silence and watch a very confusing last part of a movie that you had never seen before.

“I love you,” he whispered into your hair. You returned the words just as delicately.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oh gosh, I can’t believe the ending of this story is already here. I just want to say how thankful I am to the ones who have read this, despite it being an outlier as a Steve Rogers fic. I know it might have seemed like a strange concept in the beginning, but I was really motivated to write a story that had themes of body positivity and dealt with it in a healthy manner. I hope I’ve done the topic justice in my own little way. As I mentioned, there will be three drabbles for this story, but I don’t know when they’ll be posted. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this ending :)

The rooftop terrace of the tower was filled with people. Sammie, Clair, and Rebecca were here. Your parents had flown in from your hometown. Angus’ wife, his two brothers and his mom had made it. Olive’s grandparents and a few of her cousins had showed up. And the entire team was here, celebrating the ending of training and the official beginning of your time as an Avenger.

Angus and Olive were both moving back out of the tower after today, but of course, you were staying behind because this place with these people had well and truly become your home.

“Here it is!” Sam shouted, carrying a huge cake up the stairs. He set it down on a table, and you got a good look at it. It read “Congrats Olive, Angus, and Y/N” in big letters and it had an Avengers symbol in the background. Everyone cheered as Sam pulled a giant knife from his back pocket and began slicing pieces.

Once you and Steve both got a slice, you wandered to an empty table and sat down, both grinning with frosting covered teeth. “I’m so proud of you,” he said with his mouth full.

You leaned over to give him a sugary kiss. “Thank you.”

“So, I finally managed to paint something…”

“What?! Really? That’s fantastic, Steve!”

Bucky appeared out of nowhere. “Did I just hear you say that you finally painted something, Stevie?”

“Fuck…” Steve huffed, already knowing where this was going.

“You sure did,” you informed Bucky with a grin.

“Let’s see it, then,” he urged Steve.

“Guys, come on, we don’t need to make a big show about it.”

“You don’t usually have a problem showing us your work. What’s wrong?” you asked him, genuinely confused about his shyness on the subject.

“It’s just my first painting ever. I’m afraid it’s terrible.”

Bucky clapped his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I highly doubt that, punk. Where’s it at, your studio? You should go get it.”

“And reveal it here in front of people I don’t know? No thanks.”

“There were plenty of people you didn’t know at the auction,” Bucky reasoned.

“Please, Steve. As a congratulations present for me?” you begged with an adorable look on your face.

“Oh come on, not that face. You know I can’t say no to that face.”

“Exactly,” you grinned at him again.

He got up and left the terrace, presumably to procure his painting. Your family and friends arrived at your table with plates of cake in their hands. “You’re right,” Sammie informed you as she plopped down in the seat that Steve had vacated, “Olive is so my type.”

“Told you so.”

You chatted with everyone, catching up with your parents since it had been nearly a year since you’d visited them. Finally, Steve returned carrying a large canvas that had a cloth draped over it. He walked to the center table where the cake had been cut and cleared his throat to quiet the party.

“As many of you know, and some of you probably wouldn’t know considering we just met today, I’ve had many struggles with self-image and self-esteem over the past year. Honestly, it goes back way further than that. These issues have existed in me for my entire life, starting way back in the 30s in Brooklyn. After making many rash decisions, a few of them for the better and a few of them stupid mistakes, I finally feel absolutely comfortable in my own skin. I have all the people around me to thank for helping me along the way: Bruce for never stopping me from making my own choices, no matter how idiotic they were, Bucky and Sam for always being such good friends and having my back, and my best girl Y/N for being unafraid to tell me the truth no matter how bad it hurts. I love you, and you’re the one who finally taught me to see myself as I truly am.” He pulled the cover off the canvas and everyone got a good look.

You were in awe. It was a painting of Steve himself. He had depicted him standing tall and proud, and despite the color scheme being a patriotic red, white, and blue, he was in his normal form, no Cap suit in sight. In his arm, where one might imagine the legendary shield, instead a palette of paint rested. It was the first time Steve had ever portrayed himself in his art, and you were so incredibly proud of him. You now understood why his face had been missing from all the artwork at the auction, why he focused on his friends rather than himself: he had been self-conscious, but all that negative energy was gone now.

You stood and approached him, arms already open for a loving embrace. As he held you tightly, you looked over his shoulder at the painting again, and it was only from this close observation point that you could make out the faint lines of a red “I love you” in the background. He had used the very same canvas that you had painted across in your frustration. You tilted your head up to his and kissed him passionately, not caring that the whole room was probably staring at the two of you.

You made it back to Steve’s bedroom in the late evening, both over-full from the decadent cake and exhausted from all the small talk and chatter. You sat down on the edge of Steve’s bed, pulling your shoes off with a relieved sigh.

“I finished another piece that I wanted to show just to you.” Steve was standing next to his desk, flipping through his sketchbook.

“Is it the one you drew of me in bed that day?”

“Sort of, yeah.”

“Sort of?” you asked as he was still searching for it.

“You’ll see.” His fingers finally stopped flipping through the pages, and he pulled one out, handing it over to you.

It was you, lying naked on his bed, just as you’d thought, but instead of being alone, Steve was curled up right next to you. He was just as naked, and his slightly-toned forearm was draped across your stomach as he pressed his gorgeous lips into the crook of your neck. Your eyes were closed, but instead of it being from sleep, it looked as if you had shut them in pleasure. It was beautiful the way your bodies fit together, and you loved that Steve had captured such an intimate moment of the two of you together. It was also really fucking hot.

“Are you trying to seduce me, Steve?”

He grinned in the most charming way. “I’m mean if you’re open to it, I’m not gonna say no.”

You carefully set the drawing on the nightstand and then pulled your handsome boyfriend onto the bed.


End file.
